


Middle School

by arthurpseud (saintnoname)



Category: Arthur (Cartoon)
Genre: Activism, Angst, Bullying, Crushes, Cussing, Drama, Friendship, Internalized Homophobia, LGBTQ Themes, middle school in a nutshell y'all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 31,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23435344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintnoname/pseuds/arthurpseud
Summary: As the kids move on from elementary school to middle school, how will they navigate through life?
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For this work, I decided to take the "Arthur and his classmates were in third grade in 1996-1997 when season 1 aired" approach, which means this story begins at the end of the '90s.
> 
> Also, I don't really plan on there being any ships. There'll be crushes, but having a crush isn't the same as having a relationship. There will also be LGBTQ characters, so if that's a problem, don't read.

**May, 1998**

His first time sitting through elementary school graduation, it was as a guest. He wore his nice suit—the one he wore when he played at recitals or went to the opera with his family. He didn’t have to. Only the kids who were graduating really needed to dress up. Even his own parents, while they looked nice, didn’t look “going to the opera” nice. His father didn’t even wear a tie.

But Binky insisted on wearing his nice suit. He insisted on tying his own tie and shining his dress shoes.

As soon as he got there, something inside him screamed, _you don’t belong here_. But simultaneously, a conflicting voice screamed, _you do belong here, just not like this_. His family went and found their seats.

Binky’s mother smiled sympathetically once they were seated—reached over to gently squeeze Binky’s hand before letting go and placing her hand in her lap. They no longer held hands in public, but brief moments like this were still common. Usually as a congratulations or a sorry. She must have been able to pick up on Binky’s weird mood to be comforting him like this. 

_I should be up there_ , Binky thought as he looked at the fifth graders sitting onstage in rows of chairs. That, he realized, was that weird feeling he had. He was supposed to be up there graduating with them, not down here watching. He was simultaneously meant to be here and not meant to be here. He looked down the aisle at where Brain was sitting with his own family. He wondered if Brain felt the same way he did.

As the ceremony went on, Binky gave the polite, compulsory clap with every student called forward, but whooped and hollered whenever one of his friends was called. At the end of the ceremony, the graduating students all stood together, proudly holding their certificates and allowing parents time to take pictures. Picture time lasted long enough that by the end, some of the students’ smiles began to drop. But finally, picture time was over, and the students were released to the lobby, which was where the guests were told they would find them.

By the time Binky and his family got to the lobby, Binky’s graduating friends had already found each other. Their parents lingered nearby, making small talk with each other. “Mei Lin has started talking,” Binky overheard his mom saying proudly. Binky wouldn’t exactly call it talking—more like a couple of words here or there—but his mom was so excited she was telling everyone.

Binky joined his friends, huge smile on his face. Rattles burst into a big grin when he saw him and ran over to hug him. “Hey, boss! I’m glad you could make it!”

Binky hugged him back. It was weird that Rattles was still calling him boss when Rattles was the one moving on to middle school while Binky was getting left behind. Probably just an old habit. “Hey! It’s nice to see you, too,” Binky replied as they pulled out of their hug. Then, with hesitation, he went to hug Slink and Molly each in turn, too, congratulating both of them.

“What are you doing later?” Rattles asked him. 

“All of us are going out when we’re done here,” Molly piped up before Binky could answer. “That Chinese place you like, so you won’t have to worry about allergies.”

Binky twiddled his fingers uncertainly. “I don’t know…do you guys have a reservation? I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”

If Molly’s eyes weren’t hidden by her hair, Binky would have been able to see her roll them. “Duh. The entire reason we chose that restaurant was so we would know you could come.”

“Well…alright. I’ll have to talk to my parents first.”

“Go right ahead, boss,” said Rattles, gesturing.

Binky didn’t go to his parents.

Much to the confusion of the Tough Customers, Binky walked up to Brain. The poor boy was alone at the time, leaving Binky his window of opportunity.

“Hi,” Binky said, a little more gruffly than intended.

Brain blinked and turned to him. “Oh, uh…hi.”

“Does all of this feel weird to you?” 

Brain seemed to genuinely ponder, even assuming the stereotypical _I’m thinking right now_ pose of clutching his chin between his thumb and his forefinger. “You know what? I think it does.” His tone of voice indicated surprise—as if it was something he hadn’t consciously thought about until Binky brought it up. “I had felt some discomfort throughout the entire event that I couldn’t quite pinpoint until you said something. It’s because if we weren’t held back, we would have been graduating with them.”

Binky let out a loud sigh of relief. “Finally! I thought I was the only one! It really is weird, right?”

“Super weird,” Brain agreed in a very unscientific and unsophisticated way.

Binky slung an arm around Brain’s shoulders. “Buddy? You’re like a breath of fresh air right now.” Brain was stiff under his arm, as if unsure how to react. It wasn’t like he and Binky had ever been buddy-buddy like this. Binky used his thumb to point at the other Tough Customers. “A bunch of us are going out to Chinese food,” he said, sounding more confident than he’d felt since he got there. “Whaddya say you join us?”

Brain awkwardly slunk out from under Binky’s arm. “Oh, um, thanks, but my family and I have plans. Sorry. Thanks, though!” With that, Brain turned and walked back to his family.

Binky internally admitted defeat and walked back to his own family. “Let’s get out of this dumb place,” he grumbled.

His mom and his dad exchanged a look of mutual surprise, then turned back to their son. “Wouldn’t you like to spend some more time with your friends?” Binky’s mom asked gently.

“Nuh uh! I wanna get out of here!” Fists balled, Binky just kept walking.

By the time they got back to the car, Binky had calmed down enough to decide he wanted to go to the Chinese restaurant, after all. Next year, they wouldn’t be going to the same school as him. He was going to miss spending lunches with them, and he didn’t know how much time they’d be able to spend together outside of school. Heck, for all he knew, this last summer break was it. For all he knew, he and the Tough Customers wouldn’t be friends anymore after the new school year started. He couldn’t waste a second of this summer he had with them.

\---

Molly had her chopsticks raised halfway to her mouth when she nearly choked on the food that was already in her mouth (and seriously? Why was she trying to shovel more food into her mouth when her mouth was full already?). She set her chopsticks down as Rattles patted her back. When he looked up to see what had surprised her enough to get that reaction, he burst into another big grin. “Hey!” he exclaimed. “What happened to you? We thought you weren’t gonna show!”

Binky and his family sat down, and his dad motioned at their server to bring them more menus. Binky really didn’t like explaining himself, and truthfully, the Tough Customers usually accepted that. Gosh, he was going to miss them. “It was nothing,” he replied. “I just had to talk to Brain first.”

Molly, who had now taken a deep sip of water, had caught her breath. “Yeah, whatever. It was still rude of you to leave without letting us know if you were coming.”

Binky’s face didn’t betray what he felt. But on the inside? Inside, he flinched. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

The Tough Customers all seemed to accept his apology. The night went on with them all enjoying themselves, until the checks came and Binky decided to get heavy.

“Hey…you guys?”

All three of them looked expectantly at him.

“Do you think we’ll still be friends after you guys start middle school next year?”

Next year. That made it seem so far away, but it was only in three months. It wasn’t really “next year” at all.

“Yeah,” Slink answered without hesitation. Considering he was the quietest member of the Tough Customers, it was surprising for him to answer first.

Binky blinked. “It’s just that if _I_ was going into middle school, and _I_ still had friends who were in elementary school…I would feel kind of lame.”

Molly shrugged. “I think we can handle one year of having an elementary school friend. Besides, I’ve got a little brother who’s about to go into first grade.”

“Yeah, you’ll be moving up with us next year, anyway,” Rattles agreed.

“But what about high school? You guys’ll be moving up a year before me for that, too.”

The three seemed to share a mutual, nonverbal exchange. Rattles nodded. “Once a Tough Customer, always a Tough Customer.”

The other two nodded and repeated the mantra. Binky still wasn’t entirely set at ease, but he was at enough ease. Allowing himself to smile, he nodded, too. “Once a Tough Customer, always a Tough Customer.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Journal Entry April 14, 1999**

_This is it. Exactly one month from today, I’ll graduate from elementary school. After spending the last three years at Lakewood Elementary, I’ll be moving on. Three years isn’t a very long time compared to how long most of the other kids in my class have been here. Most of them have been here since kindergarten. That’s six years, twice as long as I’ve been here. But three years is the longest I’ve ever stayed in one place. I’ve only been alive for ten years, but most of that time was spent moving from place to place. Also, it’s been a few months since my birthday, and I still can’t get over the fact that I’ve been alive for a decade. I’m a decade old. That’s just really cool to me. I’m sure I won’t be as excited when I turn 20, because it’ll be my second time living through a decade, but since this is my first time, it’s really exciting. Maybe by the time I turn 11, I’ll be over it._

_Sue Ellen_

**April 14, 1999**

_Dear Diary,_

_In one month, I finally move on from elementary school to middle school. If you really wanted to get technical, that’s just the day I move on from elementary school. I technically still have one full summer after that before I move on to middle school. But either way, I’m excited. I was in elementary school for six years. I’m ready for something new._

_I really do feel like Mr. Ratburn did the most for me out of all of my elementary school teachers. I had him twice. I was sad to learn I wasn’t going to be taking fifth grade with him. Part of me almost hoped he’d follow us from third to fourth and then to fifth grade. But it looks like he’s going to teach fourth grade from now on. That’s okay, of course. I’ve already gone through fifth grade without him as a teacher and I’d like to think I did just fine. But I still worry about his future students. What if, someday, he decides to move on to teaching middle school? His elementary school students will be left behind!_

_It’s going to be an adjustment to have different teachers and classrooms for each period instead of staying in the same room with the same teacher most of the day. The good news is that if I have a teacher I don’t like, I’ll only have one class with them each day, but I’ve never had a teacher I didn’t like. I’m much more likely to have a teacher that I really do like, and be disappointed to only have one class with them._

_I’m sorry. I feel like this is turning into another sad entry. I really am excited. But I can’t help being a little bit sad, too. I’m moving on to a new chapter of my life, and that’s exciting, but it also means ending the last chapter._

_Love,  
Fern_

\---

**May 13, 1999**

George sat on his bed with Wally. He’d long since stopped bringing the dummy to school with him, but he still used him to work through problems…and he still slept with him at night, as embarrassing as that felt. A boy who was about to go into middle school shouldn’t still be sleeping with his wooden dummy. The toy was just so comforting to him. Like a security blanket.

“What’s the matter, George?” he made Wally ask.

“I’m just nervous about middle school.”

“Why is that, George? You’ve got a lot going for you! You learned how to make friends without using me as a crutch—” he made Wally move across his lap like he was limping “—your dyslexia didn’t stop you from doing well in school. And people finally stopped bullying you.”

George slumped. “But what if things change? What if the older kids start bullying me? There are three elementary schools that feed into this school. Including Mighty Mountain! We’re going to be going to school with kids from Mighty Mountain!” He hid his face in his hands. “I’m gonna get bullied again, I just know it.”

George waited for Wally to say something—to give him a word of encouragement or advice. But Wally remained silent. George sighed. He guessed he would have to work out this one on his own. In the meantime, at least Wally could provide comfort by sleeping next to him.

George pulled back his covers and climbed under them, laying Wally on the pillow beside him. He pulled the covers up over both himself and Wally. “Goodnight, Wally,” he said a bit glumly, turning off his light.

There was a moment of silence. Then, Wally said, “If it’s any consolation: I’ll still like you no matter what, kid.”

George smiled. “Thanks. I like me, too. And you.”

After that, George was able to get to sleep soundly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for season 23 ahead.

**May 14, 1999**

His second time sitting through elementary school graduation, it was as a graduating student. A year ago, when the rest of the Tough Customers graduated, the ceremony was supposed to be held outside, in the field. However, since it was raining, they set up in the school auditorium instead. This time? This time, it was a gorgeous, sunny day. Binky couldn’t help being in a good mood all day—partly because of the weather, and partly because he was finally moving on to middle school, albeit a year too late. But mostly, he was in a good mood because he had the best friends in the whole entire world.

His friends had kept their promise. 

And it was true that they didn’t get to spend as much time together as they did when they went to school together. That was something he expected. Another thing he expected was for them to lose interest in an elementary school baby like him and stop being his friend altogether pretty soon after they began spending time with _other_ middle schoolers. Of course, he wasn’t really a baby. He was the same age as them. But that still didn’t change the fact that he was in elementary school and they were in middle school. They kept reassuring him that sixth grade wasn’t that much different from elementary school, but that didn’t matter to him. All he could think of was that they were now a level above him. They were middle schoolers, while he was still an elementary schooler.

But that didn’t matter to them. Like he expected, they didn’t spend as much time together, but thankfully, his second expectation didn’t come to pass. His best friends didn’t lose interest in him and didn’t decide to stop spending time with him just because they’d moved on to middle school and he hadn’t. And now, his friends were here to support him through his own graduation just as he’d been there to support them the year before. Whereas the year before, he’d had that feeling of displacement, that sense of not quite belonging there, this time, Binky knew he belonged there, and there were no voices saying anything to the contrary.

Binky’s parents had bought him a new suit in the year since the only other time he’d sat through an elementary school graduation. His old suit had been a few years old, and he had outgrown it. He still insisted on tying his own tie and shining his own shoes.

This time around, Binky didn’t have his parents with him. The graduating students were separated from their guests and brought to their folding chairs on the field, just as they’d rehearsed earlier that week. No comforting hand reassuringly squeezing his. Once the graduating students were settled, guests were allowed to find their places on the bleachers. Binky could see his parents and Mei Lin (who could now walk by herself, but needed close supervision because she was at that age where she’d walk over a cliff if nobody was watching). He smiled privately, but his gaze didn’t linger on them long enough for him to catch the half-hearted attempt at eye contact that his mom made. He was more focused on what was going on closer to him. Was this anything like what his friends experienced a year ago? He couldn’t say, as he’d never asked, and they’d never told. Now? He kind of wished he’d asked. 

Binky focused on the grass until—

“Shelley Barnes,” the Principal said for the second time. It was the first time Binky heard it. 

Ms. Tingley had stayed on as Principal for the rest of the year after Principal Haney left, but the responsibility of being Principal had been too much for her. When Binky’s class returned for fourth grade, there was a new Principal, and Ms. Tingley was back to being Assistant Principal. Truthfully, she seemed relieved to have less responsibility when the new school year began. The last two years, she had been Assistant Principal again, and the new person was Principal.

Binky’s eyes snapped away from the grass to the Principal. He smiled and stood, and he kept that smile on his face as he walked to the Principal to collect his certificate. His mind vaguely registered the applause (and a few louder whoops) that accompanied him there and then back to his seat. It was almost surreal. When he played clarinet at a concert or recital, there wasn’t this kind of nerve, but there were just as many people watching him. Maybe he didn’t notice his audience as much in those circumstances because his focus was on his performance itself. In this case? His focus was on nothing but walking to and from his Principal, and the applause he heard as he did so.

Name after name was called. Student after student rose to collect their certificate. He saw a pair of antlers move to the front of the stage to applause, and Binky felt compelled to join in, letting out a whoop before the antlers embarrassedly trudged back to the seat and resumed their prior position. Uh oh. Had George not wanted so much attention? Binky couldn’t quite figure George out. In all their years in elementary school, George had constantly performed in public…but acted shy and meager offstage. At the very least, in this particular case, it seemed as if George just wanted to get things overwith. He wasn’t performing. Not like when he had some prop like Wally or a pogo stick with him. Maybe that was his real gimmick: maybe it was hard for him to perform without a prop.

Everyone was called forward and got out of their seats to line up for pictures. Proudly holding their certificates in from of them. False smiles in place. _This is it_ , thought Binky. _This is what it was supposed to be like last year. But it was raining, so this didn’t happen_.

The picture taking session lasted long enough that by the end of it, the corners of Binky’s lips had begun to droop.

When the picture taking session ended, the students were released back inside into the lobby, followed by their guests. Binky walked into the lobby to the sight of George hugging Buster excitedly. “Hey!” George exclaimed with a giggle, arms still around Buster’s neck. “We did it! We’re in middle school now!” George moved on to hug Arthur. Apparently, he was in a hugging kind of mood. Binky didn’t go anywhere near him, for fear that George would try to hug him, too. Never mind that he himself had hugged George before. It would be different if _George_ was the one to initiate the hugging. 

He pushed that thought to the very back of his mind and smiled big as he instead went to hug his mom. Once his hug with his mom was over, he moved on to hug his dad, then Mei Lin. It was while he was hugging his little sister that his middle school friends spotted him.

“Hey! Boss!” A year after graduating from elementary school, Rattles still called him that. Even though Binky was just now graduating from elementary school himself. 

“Hey!” Binky greeted excitedly as he hugged Rattles back. Binky then proceeded to hug both Molly and Slink. There was none of the hesitation from last year, when they were the ones graduating. This time, he was happy to hug each of them, and they were both happy to hug him back. “Guys, I had my parents reserve us spots at the Chinese restaurant. Like last year, remember?”

None of the three of them said anything, each looking awkward and not making eye contact with him. Hey! That was another thing he noticed: he could see Molly’s eyes. Her long bangs were held back now by a nice rhinestone clip. Even a month ago when he last saw her, her hair was loose and long and covered her eyes like it had for as long as he’d known her. Maybe this was for a special occasion, or maybe it was an experiment, or maybe this was just her new look now, but honestly? Binky really liked it.

Rattles laughed awkwardly. “Uh…there wouldn’t be anything wrong with that, boss, besides—promise not to be mad at us—but we made the reservation, too.” He laughed again.

Binky blinked in surprise, then he chuckled. He could actually see the tension leave Rattles. “So what? The more the merrier! I’ve got other friends who are graduating. I’ll invite them along, too.” He didn’t know much about restaurant reservations or how they worked, but he did know enough to entertain the idea of his friends and their parents taking the seats his parents had reserved. Which was to say: he knew literally nothing about how restaurant reservations worked.

Fortunately, everyone could get settled fairly quickly and without hassle, with the aid of some people in the party who _did_ know about how restaurant reservations worked. Namely: David Read and his friend Patrick (who was there with Mr. Ratburn, although it would be years before Binky would realize why), as well as Brain and his mom. They even assisted the servers with moving tables and chairs. Watching them, Binky felt a bit guilty about not pitching in and helping move furniture, so he offered up his services. The other kids immediately followed suit, and between all of them, the job got done quickly and they could sit. Arthur and his family were there, as well as Brain’s family and Buster and Bitzi. Overall, it was almost thirty people, so all the adults made sure to tip very well.

An older couple sat near them kept shooting annoyed looks at them. A large group with a bunch of kids, _and_ they moved a bunch of furniture around? The couple’s nice, quiet dinner had been ruined. 

“Do you know who I really miss right now?” Buster asked. Their tables quieted down as everyone looked expectantly at him. “Ladonna.”

Arthur exhaled loudly. “I haven’t heard from her in a couple months. How about you?”

Buster nodded. “She hasn’t graduated yet. Hers is next week.”

“Maybe you could call her and tell her about our graduation, so she can have an idea of what to expect.”

“I don’t know if it’ll be the same for her, since she goes to a different school in a different state.”

“Good point. Still, if you miss her, you should call her.”

Buster smiled. “You’re right, Arthur.”

Binky decided to pitch in with his own idea. “Hey, maybe you could make copies of pictures from our graduation and send them to her! That way, she’ll be able to see what our ceremony was like and what everyone was wearing!” Binky hadn’t been close to Ladonna like Buster and Arthur had been, but he didn’t want Buster to be sad.

Buster’s smile widened. “Hey! That’s a great idea!”

The Compsons hadn’t returned to Elwood City since they moved, but Ladonna had stayed in touch with a few of her friends. Gradually, she had lost contact with some of her friends from Elwood City, and others, like Arthur and Brain, became friends she only talked or wrote to every few months. But Buster and Fern had both been friends she’d stayed in close contact with for the two years since she moved. Bud and D.W. (who, since learning about her namesake, started going by Dora) had stayed in touch, as well. Initially, they had their older siblings help them read and write their letters to each other. Then, as they began to learn how to read and write, they started reading and writing their own letters with no help at all from their older siblings. In fact, wanting to be able to read Bud’s letters and write her own letters to him was a strong motivation for Dora to learn to read and write. She pushed herself hard and ended up miles ahead of her classmates by the time she entered first grade. In his latest letter to Dora, Bud let her know they were moving again a couple weeks after Ladonna’s graduation. He gave her their new address. It was in Massachusetts. Bud was _very_ proud to have written that word, although Dora knew he couldn’t actually spell it, and had just copied it. Massachusetts was much closer to Elwood City than Oregon, but not close enough to drive to in a single day (at least not without plenty of proper stops for kids Dora’s and Kate’s ages). It would be Ladonna’s fifth move and Bud’s fourth.

Rattles smiled, patting Binky’s shoulder. “I’m really glad you’re finally joining us in middle school, Binks.”

Slink nodded in agreement, and Molly added, “Yeah, it’s about time!”

Binky chuckled. “Thanks. Except…I don’t know if I wanna go by Binky when I move on to middle school.”

Binky’s mom went wide-eyed at that. “What do you _mean_ you don’t want to go by Binky anymore?!”

Binky’s dad gave his wife a warning look. “Honey, I think that what he means is, he’s growing up now. Is that right?”

Binky looked down. “Well, I mean, sorta. That nickname is fine for elementary school, but do you think any kid could make it through middle school getting called _Binky_? I mean, that’s what you give babies to get ‘em to stop crying, and I’m not a baby anymore.”

Binky’s mom looked crestfallen, but Binky’s dad was still giving her that look that told her not to make a scene, so she didn’t say anything. “I think that’s fine, son,” he said. “What would you like us to call you?”

Binky shrugged. “I’d like to try going by my real name. You know? Shelley?”

Rattles, Molly, and Slink all snapped toward him. Of course Binky’s family knew his birth name, and so did Buster, Arthur, and Mr. Ratburn. But he had never told his closest friends his birth name. As far as Rattles, Molly, and Slink knew, Binky _was_ his legal name, the same way that Binky didn’t know Rattles’ or Slink’s real names.

Rattles’ hand had never really left Binky’s (Shelley’s?) shoulder. It had kind of just come to rest on it. But now that he had taken a moment to process the information, he patted it again. “Nice to meet ya, Shelley. If you ever wanna call me Tony, you can.” 

Shelley blinked. Now, he knew Rattles’ real name. It was obviously being offered up in a moment of solidarity: Binky had opened up and not only revealed his name, but said he would prefer to go by it, so Rattles had revealed his own name.

Slink remained silent.

Rattles shrugged. “Or, if you want, you can keep calling me Rattles. Either way, it’s fine.”

Binky’s (Shelley’s) dad nodded, making eye contact with his son. “It may take some time to adjust to the change, but if that’s what you want to be called now, we’ll all do our best.”

Binky’s (Shelley’s) mom finally, reluctantly smiled. She nodded, letting her son know she would try her best, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there you go! Patrick made his way into this fic, although for obvious reasons (aka same-sex marriage not being legal in the US in the '90s), he and Nigel didn't get married when the kids were in third grade. But I assure you, Patrick will return!


	4. Chapter 4

**June, 1999**

“Arthur!” Buster waved to his friend, who was waiting for him in front of Brain’s mom’s ice cream shop. “Let’s go inside! I can’t wait to show you!” He placed his hand on Arthur’s lower back and directed him into the shop. Arthur wasn’t the only one of Buster’s friends he’d called to meet him there, but he was the only one who went outside to wait for him.

Fern, George, Muffy, and Sue Ellen were all already sat in a booth. Francine sat alone in a booth adjacent to theirs. Buster led Arthur to the booth Francine sat in. He didn’t even give Arthur time to decide which (if any) type of ice cream he wanted. Buster gestured for Arthur to sit down. Arthur noticed Buster had ice cream, and made up his mind not to sit down until he had some, too. “I’m gonna get ice cream first.” He walked up to the counter, which Brain was manning. Arthur ordered, and Buster waved at Brain. 

“Hey,” Buster called to Brain. “We’re the only ones in here right now. Do you wanna see, too?”

Brain handed Arthur his ice cream while looking at Buster. “You didn’t actually tell me what you’re showing everyone, Buster.”

Buster looked bashful. “Oh, right. Ladonna sent me a package.”

Brain and Ladonna had exchanged emails three times in the last year, and they hadn’t called each other in over a year. He wasn’t sure if he should feel jealous that Buster had stayed so close to Ladonna after all this time while _he_ and Ladonna had sort of drifted apart. He genuinely wasn’t sure. Brain had had emotional problems his entire life. But he stepped out from behind the counter and followed Arthur back to the booth where Buster and Francine sat.

Buster had since wolfed down his ice cream. Normally, Brain would have taken his dish right then, but given the circumstances, he let it be. Buster opened his package. “So, Binky…I mean, Shelley…made the suggestion to me to send Ladonna some copies of pictures from our graduation. And I thought that was a great idea! So I did that. So then Ladonna promised me she’d send pictures of _her_ from _her_ graduation. So since I got a package from her, I assume that’s what’s inside.”

Fern blinked. “You mean, you didn’t actually open it yet?”

“Nope! I wanted it to be just as much a surprise for me as it is for all of you.”

“So, you don’t even know if there are pictures from her graduation?” Arthur asked. “Because that’s what you told me we were here to see.”

Buster rubbed the back of his neck, ears drooping. “Well, I…I mean, what else could it be?” he asked, trying to cover his tracks.

Fern and George exchanged a look, and they shrugged at the same time.

“Go ahead and open it, Buster,” Arthur encouraged, despite his own resignations.

Buster opened the package (which was actually pretty small, so it very well could be mostly pictures, except for whatever was squishy on top). The squishy thing on top was a pink t-shirt in Buster’s size that simply said, in bold white letters, “Massachusetts”. Buster flushed. Maybe he should have opened the package alone before sharing its contents with his friends. He’d never felt the need to before. One thing was for sure: he _loved_ the shirt. Ladonna had known exactly what to get him from her new home. But it was clearly meant to be a girl’s shirt. 

“Nice shirt,” Arthur piped up, picking up on Buster’s discomfort. “It’s fuchsia.”

Now that the tension had been diffused, Buster set the shirt down on the table and picked up the next item in the package. It was a letter.

“ _Dear Buster_ ,” he began to read. “ _I’m sorry it’s been a while since I wrote to you. I’ve just been so gosh darn busy, between graduation and the move. Speaking of, this is my first letter from my new place!_

_I included some pictures of my new place along with my graduation pictures. I really liked seeing your graduation pictures. It also helped remind me I’ve got some people in Elwood City I haven’t written to for a while, so now that we’re settled into our new place, I’ll be doing that. Thank the Lord I’ve at least got summer break to get adjusted to my new place before I have to start at a new school! Starting middle school is hard enough for people who are staying in the same city, let alone those of us who are starting it in a completely different state. Before you start feeling too sorry for me, remember this is pretty much the same thing I went through when I went into first grade, except that was worse, because I was moving from Guam back to the US._

_Speaking of! Bud finished first grade with flying colors. I am so proud of him. I blame Dora for the fact that he was top of his class in English. In a good way, Arthur, if you’re listening. If I know Buster, he’s reading this out loud_.”

That line got everyone—including Buster—to laugh. This wasn’t the first time Buster had insisted on publicly opening a letter or package from Ladonna without knowing in advance what its contents would be.

Buster continued reading the letter. “ _Speaking of. I hope that if you’re reading this for the first time in front of people_ …do you guys mind if I don’t read the rest out loud?” Buster looked up from his letter to make eye contact with the friends he had around him.

Fern and George instantly shook their heads and turned their attention back to their ice cream. Sue Ellen seemed torn. Ultimately, she followed suit, shaking her head and turning to her ice cream.

“I should go back to the counter,” Brain said, effectively excusing himself from the awkward situation.

But Muffy was a different story. If it wasn’t for Muffy, Buster would have had a fairly uneventful transition into semi-solitude.

“If you didn’t want it to be public, why did you begin reading it in public?” Muffy asked indignantly. She tossed a pigtail over her shoulder. 

Buster looked down at the letter, ears drooping.

Francine took Muffy’s hand. “Come on. He didn’t know what her letter would say. Let’s be fair to him and let him read the rest in private.” With that, she tried to pull Muffy out of her seat. 

But Muffy wasn’t budging. She tugged her hand out of Francine’s and crossed her arms. “I just think it’s a little bit _rude_ to start a story without finishing it. That’s all.” She looked expectantly at Buster for only a fraction of a second before rolling her eyes and avoiding eye contact with Buster.

“Hey,” Arthur interjected. “Are all the Henry Skreever books out?”

Muffy looked at him and blinked with surprise. “No, but I don’t see—”

“So if all the Henry Skreever books aren’t out, isn’t the author being rude by not finishing the story? I mean, why did she even start the story if she didn’t have a clear idea of how it would end, right?”

Muffy was silent. She got up out of her seat. And she held her hand out to Arthur. “Touche, Read. But I’ll be looking out for you in middle school.”

Arthur shook her hand, unfazed. “I’ll be looking out for you, too.”

When Arthur, Sue Ellen, Francine, and Muffy left, the only people left in the ice cream shop were Brain, George, Fern, and Buster. Brain minded his own business at the counter. Fern and George minded their own business in their booth. That left Buster to himself, so he could finally read what else Ladonna had to say. Privately.

_Speaking of. I hope that if you’re reading this for the first time in front of people, that they all already know and accept you for who you are. I’m sorry if that came out awkward. I just kind of hope that if you’re right about what we talked about on the phone, I’m not the only person you’ve told. I know you know I love you no matter what. I just hope people closer to you love you no matter what, as well. It shouldn’t matter if you like girls, boys, both, or neither. Anyway, I’m sorry if I’ve been rambling, or if I’ve accidentally made you publicly admit something you didn’t want to. I just don’t see what the problem is. It shouldn’t matter to anyone if anyone likes girls or boys or both or neither. Anyway, that’s all I have to say about that topic for now. I hope you’re enjoying your summer vacation._

_Your friend,_

_Ladonna Compson_

_\---_

Little did Ladonna Compson know, but she actually _was_ the only person Buster had confessed his bisexuality to. Except, neither of them knew the right word for it. Neither of them had heard, let alone spoken or written, the word “bisexual”. Both of them had heard the word “gay”, though. Both of them were aware of the negative connotations associated with _that_ word. And neither of them wanted to be associated with those negative connotations.

At the time, Ladonna Compson didn’t realize it, but she, like her friend Buster Baxter, also fell into that in-between category. But she hadn’t realized it yet, let alone accepted it. She was eleven. She had yet to experience her first real crush, let alone her first real love. She couldn’t really relate to what Buster was talking about. He went in depth about why he thought he liked both boys and girls. Ladonna lavished her support on him. But she didn’t quite understand the situation herself at the time. How could a boy who was the same age as her be so sure he liked both girls and boys when she had no clue who, if anyone, she liked?

Ladonna had been the first person Buster told for a reason. The distance made it easier. It was easier to tell someone over the phone, when he couldn’t see their face. At the same time, though, his dad couldn’t be the first person he told either, because although they had the distance thing, it was still his dad. And even if they weren’t related, his dad was still way older than him, and might not understand the way someone his own age would. Really, no one _but_ Ladonna could have been the first person he told.

He would call her shortly after reading the letter and explain to her that he wasn’t ready to tell anyone but her, but she shouldn’t worry, because he didn’t read that part of the letter out loud. But between her sending the letter and getting the phone call, she would keep wondering if bringing it up in that letter was the right thing to do.

\---

Buster threw away the packaging from his gift and put the shirt on over his hoodie after putting the letter and pictures into his hoodie pocket. He put his helmet on and started riding his bike home. As he rode through the park, he spotted Toby riding his own bike. Ugh, Toby. Toby was a bully he’d gone to elementary school with who had _briefly_ convinced him they could someday be friends, but had largely left him alone after Buster got wise to his act. He hoped they wouldn’t be going to the same middle school—or that if they did, they wouldn’t be in any classes together. Unlike the other Tough Customers, who had long since outgrown their bullying ways, Toby still seemed stuck on bullying.

Toby spotted Buster and hit his brakes. “Buster!” he called. 

Buster cringed and stopped his own bike. He’d been hoping Toby wouldn’t notice him. “Hey, Toby!” he called as he waved, trying to seem pleasant.

Toby got a mischievous look—the same kind he used to get before daring Buster to do something stupid back in the day. “How do you feel about the fact that the world is going to end at the end of this year?”

Buster blinked. Although he was less gullible than he had been, say, two years ago? He still kept up with (and helped spread) conspiracy theories. How had he not heard about this one? “Wh—what?”

“Yeah! Haven’t you heard? It’s Y2K. It’s the end of the world.”

Buster narrowed his eyes. “What does Y2K mean?”

“It means the _world_ is going to end on New Year’s.”

Buster decided Toby was just messing with him. He shrugged and rode off. But as he rode home, he decided he’d look up Y2K. It was probably nothing, but he had learned to make informed decisions.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, they finally actually go into middle school. XD I hope you've all enjoyed it so far.

**July, 1999**

_Dear Ladonna,_

_Again, thanks for all your support, and thanks for understanding that I’m not ready to tell anyone else. I’ll tell other people when I’m ready to, and you’ll be the first to know when I do. Thanks for the pictures of your new school too! I know you only went there to register, so maybe you could send me some more pictures when the school year starts. And I’ll send you pictures of my school! Arthur and I are going there to register tomorrow. We’re planning on taking all the same classes, but I don’t know if we’re taking them at the same time. Our skedules will be mailed to us a week before school starts._

_By the way, have you heard of Y2K? I tried looking it up and asking people but I’ve only found rumors. I’m starting to think it might not be real. I have to know tho. It might mean the end of the world. Anyway, I just thought I’d ask._

_Your friend, Buster_

\---

“Buster!” 

Buster knew that voice: it was Arthur’s, and it was very welcome in this unfamiliar place. He sought out that voice and spotted Arthur and his dad. Buster grabbed his mom’s hand and led her to them. “Hi, guys!” Buster greeted.

“Hello, Buster,” Mr. Read replied. He looked to Buster’s mom. “Bitzi, it’s good to see you.” The two shook hands.

“Is Jane at home with Dora and Kate?” Bitzi asked.

“Yeah. That, and she’s got a job that’s been eating up all her time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. Around the time her current job finishes up, I’ve got a job starting that’ll eat up all of my time for a while.”

At that, the four of them found seats with everyone else. Curiously, they didn’t see anyone else they knew—even though a bunch of the kids from Lakewood Elementary School were going to start going here. Then again, this wasn’t the only registration day. Maybe they were just all going on other days. Buster made a mental note to ask.

The advisors explained how the schedule would work, which classes were required, and how to select them. The kids each decided which classes they did and didn’t want to take with the help of their parents. Buster felt so powerful, getting to choose his own electives. In elementary school, they didn’t really have electives. Why? Because they couldn’t actually _elect_ whether they wanted to take them or not. They were required.

Like band. Truthfully, Buster had never really been into playing the tuba: he had done it in elementary school because band was required, and he liked the way tubas looked. In middle school, band was an elective, but taking it meant not having to take gym. And Buster would much rather keep playing tuba than have to take gym. He knew Arthur wouldn’t mind taking gym, but would rather be in band. Plus, taking band meant they’d probably have at least one class together.

That was another adjustment about going into middle school. In elementary school, they had one main teacher (and other teachers for so-called electives), and the same classmates the entire day. In middle school, they would have different teachers and classmates each period. Sure, they might have some classmates in more than one class, but they wouldn’t spend their entire day with the same people in the same few places. And Buster didn’t even want to think about how different lunch would be. There wasn’t anything resembling a playground anywhere in sight here.

Once Buster and Bitzi and Arthur and David had finished registration forms for Buster and Arthur, the two boys compared their forms. As planned, the two had registered for all the same classes, but there was always the chance they wouldn’t actually _get_ all the same classes. They crossed their fingers that they would, and that was about the only thing they could do about it.

“Hey, Arthur,” Buster whispered.

“Yeah?” Arthur whispered back, leaning closer, anticipating some kind of secret from Buster.

“Have you heard of Y2K?”

Arthur rolled his eyes and backed away, disappointed that Buster’s dramatic setup had led to nothing more than another one of the rabbit’s conspiracy theories. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”

Buster looked offended that Arthur seemed so dismissive. “Well, what do you think? Is it real, or is it not? Because I can’t find any solid sources!”

Arthur exhaled loudly, sensing that he wasn’t getting out of this one easily. “I think a lot of people are freaked out by the fact that it’s gonna be the year 2000, and they’re making stuff up. It’s gonna be a new decade, a new century, _and_ a new millennium. That’s a big deal. I think people are just scared of the change.”

“Well, of course they’re scared of the change! Change is scary!” Whoops. Buster had raised his voice more than he’d meant to. He covered his mouth with his hands.

Arthur stared at Buster, mouth slightly agape.

Buster turned away. “I don’t know why I even bothered to ask you. If there’s anyone I should’ve asked, it should’ve been the Brain.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're finally actually in middle school! And this is the longest chapter yet. I've got a question for you guys, though: is there a character whose POV I haven't explored yet that you'd like me to explore, or maybe a character whose POV I have explored, but not very much, and you'd like to see more of? Leave me a comment here or hit me up on tumblr @saintnoname2

**August, 1999**

“Oh! Sorry!” Fern exclaimed. She’d been looking down, focused on her map of her new school and trying to figure out where her first class was. When she looked up at the person she’d run into, she was pleasantly surprised to see a familiar face. “Sue Ellen!” she exclaimed, hugging the other girl.

Sue Ellen wore a look of surprise. She hadn’t even looked up from her own map when she and Fern had collided. “Oh! Hey, Fern.” With an awkward laugh, she hugged Fern back.

“How was your trip?” Fern asked as she released her friend. “Where did you guys go, again?”

“Greece.” She looked away, rubbing her arm nervously. “It was great.”

Fern picked up on Sue Ellen’s mood and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Sue Ellen looked back up at Fern. “I’m just nervous. First day at a new school. I got so comfortable at Lakewood, and I was excited about moving on, but now that I’m actually doing it…”

Fern nodded. “I get that. I’m worried about being late to my first class. I don’t know this school at all.”

Sue Ellen held up her own map. “I know what you mean. I was trying to figure out where my first class is when I bumped into you.”

“Maybe we could help each other out.” Fern moved so she could look at Sue Ellen’s map. “Where’s your first class?”

“Room 111.”

Fern looked at her own schedule. “Hey, that’s my first class, too! Let’s find it together.”

They looked the map over and began heading in the direction it looked like room 111 was. They chose seats by each other once they found the room.

“What other classes do you have?” Fern asked excitedly.

Sue Ellen pulled out her schedule. “I’ve got…English, Social Studies, Gym.” Sue Ellen made a face at that one. “Lunch, Math, Science, and Drama. You?”

“I’ve got Math, Science, Gym.” She started to make that same face, but then she realized that she probably had Gym with Sue Ellen, and her attitude changed. Gym could be bearable if she had it with a friend. “English, Social Studies, and Drama. So, it sounds like we might have _three_ classes together.” She compared her schedule with Sue Ellen’s to confirm, and they did, in fact, have three classes together.

George took the seat across from Sue Ellen. “Hi, guys.”

“George!” Sue Ellen got out of her seat to hug him. She hadn’t seen him since she and her parents had gone to Greece.

George hugged her back awkwardly. Sue Ellen hugging him was something new, and he felt a little embarrassed having her hug him in front of everyone. What if people thought they were boyfriend and girlfriend? Things were awkward enough already, with this being his first day of middle school. The hug didn’t last long, much to George’s relief. 

“Fern and I were just comparing our schedules,” Sue Ellen said. “We’ve got three classes together. What classes do you have, George?”

George pulled out his schedule. “I’ve got Home Room right now. Obviously. I’ve got…Math, Science, English, Lunch, Gym, Social Studies, and Drama.”

Fern leaned over Sue Ellen’s desk to offer her hand up for a high five from George. “We’ve both got Drama last period, too. Sounds like we’ll all be taking it together.”

George gave Fern a high five. The teacher walked to the front of the room to start class, and the three of them quieted down.

\---

Buster was a sad, sad bunny. He’d made it to lunch without having any of his friends in any of his classes. At least he would probably get to see them at lunch. And even if he didn’t: it was lunch! How could he complain about that? There was also still the chance he’d have friends in his afternoon classes.

“Hey, Buster!” Buster brightened up. He would know that voice anywhere. He turned to look for the source of the voice.

“Arthur!” He pushed to the other side of the hall where his best friend stood. “Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes. I haven’t seen any of my friends yet today!”

“Geez, I’m really sorry to hear that. I had English and Social Studies with Sue Ellen.”

Buster’s mouth fell open. “Aww, that’s not fair! _I_ wanna have English and Social Studies with Sue Ellen!”

“Sorry, pal. Are you about to eat lunch?”

Buster’s ears perked. “Yeah. You?”

“Yeah. Come on, let’s go together.”

Buster exhaled with relief. “At least we’ve got lunch together. And band.” He knew they were both taking band because they’d already talked about what electives they were thinking about taking. 

The two of them went through the lunch line together, then stood together scanning the lunchroom for anyone else they knew. They saw Binky (Shelley, right, he was going by Shelley now) sitting at a table with Rattles, Molly, and Slink. No surprise there: it was the first time they had all eaten lunch together at school in over a year. Muffy and Francine were seated at another table nearby.

Buster and Arthur lit up, walking over to their table. “Hey,” Arthur greeted them as he set his tray down on the table. “Hi,” Buster followed, setting down his own tray.

“Oh, hi,” said Francine, sounding slightly surprised.

“How are _you_ two?” Muffy asked pleasantly.

“I’m doing fine,” Arthur answered as he sat. “How about you?”

Buster was kind of relieved Arthur turned the question around back on her, because it meant he wouldn’t have to answer her and say his day had been crumby. He sat down with his lunch and started to eat.

“I’m great! I’ve already made some new friends—” She looked across the table at Francine. “And, I mean, I’ve also got some classes with some very _old_ friends.”

Francine smiled at that. “Muffy and I had Math and Science together.”

Now, Buster felt _really_ rotten. He was certain everyone he knew had at least one class with someone they knew before lunch.

Arthur sensed the negativity coming off of Buster. “Hey! Let’s all compare our schedules and see if we have any classes together!” He hoped they’d find out that at least one of them would end up having a class with Buster, and that would raise Buster’s spirits.

All four of them pulled out their schedules and looked over them. As predicted, Arthur and Buster had band together. Buster also had English and Social Studies with Francine and Muffy. So, at least in the second half of his day, he would have classes with friends. That made him a slightly happier bunny (but only slightly). There was still the morning he’d have to get through each day without anyone he knew. It might even mean *gulp* making some new friends.

Another new adjustment to being in middle school was having no real playground. The staff lent out all kinds of sports equipment, and kids could hold their own games of basketball or kickball or even tennis, or practice their soccer or football…but that was it, and at the end of lunch, they had to return the balls.

This adjustment was bigger for _Shelley_ than it was for Buster, Arthur, Francine, or Muffy. Muffy had never been very active during recess in the first place, and Francine actually preferred to work on her game over playing on a jungle gym. Arthur and Buster just wanted to spend time with their friends, and didn’t care much about how or where it was done. But Shelley? For the Tough Customers, lunch had largely been about dominating the jungle gym, even after they gave up bullying. The others had warned him ahead of time that things would be different in middle school, but he somehow hadn’t quite believed them when they told him there was no jungle gym. He’d thought that surely, there must be _some_ kind of jungle gym, however small.

Shelley looked around the field, mouth slightly agape. To his left were the tennis and basketball courts. In the distance straight ahead, some kids practiced their skateboarding tricks. Everywhere else? Nothing but green grass and a bunch of kids. Some of the kids threw footballs to each other or kicked soccer balls to each other, but many just sat on the grass socializing.

The Tough Customers knew exactly how much of a shock this was to him, since they’d been through it themselves the year before. They followed Shelley out to the recess area sympathetically. “I know, Shells,” Rattles said. “It’s just not the same.”

Over the summer, the Tough Customers had comfortably fallen into calling Shelley the name he wanted to be called, with Rattles even taking to calling him “Shells” and “Shellster” the way he’d once called him “Binks” and “Binkster”. Shelley was more than alright with this.

“What do they think?” Shelley asked indignantly. “That we wanna stop playing on playgrounds the second we start middle school?”

“Yeah!” Slink agreed. “It’s so unfair!”

“Why did you think we’ve wanted to meet at the park so much the last year?” Molly asked.

“I just—I thought you guys were exaggerating. I didn’t realize there wasn’t _any_ playground.”

“We wouldn’t have been so mad about it if there was at least _some_ playground,” Slink pointed out.

Well, Slink had a point there. _Any_ playground, no matter how small, could be claimed by the Tough Customers. The problem came when there wasn’t any turf to claim. “So, where is our turf?” His friends had been there a year. He assumed they’d claimed someplace for their own by now.

They all cast their eyes to the ground. “We don’t really have one,” Molly admitted.

“We don’t?”

Molly shrugged. “Sometimes, we go practice our skateboarding, but that’s not exactly our turf. We share it.”

“Yeah,” Rattles pitched in. “It’s the only cool place to spend recess, and we don’t think it’s right for only a few kids to monopolize it all the time.”

Shelley blinked, impressed by both his friends’ diplomacy and Rattles’ use of the word monopolize. But really, they _all_ had points. Just from looking at the recess area, Shelley could tell the area where kids were practicing skateboarding was the coolest, most desirable place to be. And unlike the sports balls and tennis rackets, if any kids wanted to skateboard during recess, they had to bring their own board. Having their own board and practicing during recess showed dedication, and he had to respect that.

“Where do you guys go when you aren’t skateboarding?” Shelley tried.

“We sit against the wall,” Slink said nonchalantly, taking a seat on the grass against the wall.

“You…sit…against the wall.” Shelley repeated, trying to process.

“Yeah,” said Rattles as he and Molly joined Slink against the wall.

“So, what do we do against the wall?” Shelley asked as he took a seat to Molly’s left.

“We talk about our feelings,” Molly offered. “Stuff like that.”

Oh, boy. Recess sounded like it would be a _disaster_ on days that they weren’t skateboarding. Maybe Shelley would try to put some effort into spending more time with his other friends from elementary school. Then again, he hadn’t spent the last year looking forward to moving on to middle school to spend more time with these three just so he could avoid them and spend time with people he’d gotten to spend as much time as he wanted with in the last year. He made up his mind to at least put in an effort.

Shelley donned a fake smile. “Alright. Feelings.”

“How do you feel about your first day so far?” Molly asked.

“Oh, um.” Shelley hadn’t expected that to get turned around on him, but he probably should have. “It’s been fine, I guess. I’m still mad about there being no playground.”

“I know,” Molly said with an eyeroll in her voice. “We tried getting them to build one, believe me.”

“Yeah, they said there was no funding or real demand for one,” Rattles chimed in. “Can you believe it?”

“No,” Shelley answered honestly. “I would think more kids would want a real playground, even if they are in middle school now.”

“Yeah, we see half these kids on the playground at the park all the time,” added Slink.

“Maybe kids just don’t wanna complain,” Shelley said thoughtfully.

“Well, whatever the reason, it’s bullshit,” Molly remarked, crossing her arms. And for now, that was the end of that conversation.

Shelley didn’t comment on the fact that she said a curse word. It was one of the only really noticeable changes about his friends since they’d moved on to middle school: the fact that they’d started cursing. Of course, he’d been watching PG-13 movies for years. He’d heard a lot of bad words. But hearing them from his friends who were the same age (if not the same grade) as him instead of from older characters in a movie? That was still new to him. That was a little bit different, and it made him a little uncomfortable. Maybe he’d be less uncomfortable about hearing them use those words if he used those words himself. Maybe he’d feel a little less left behind.

\---

George felt like he was going to throw up. Taking gym right after lunch was one of the worst decisions he’d ever made. How was he supposed to handle a semester of this? At least he wouldn’t have to take gym next semester. His plan had been to get the “elective” he was least interested in out of the way first, and it was a solid plan, but having it right after lunch? No. He looked forward to sitting back down for his next class to recover before heading to drama.

Drama. Now, _there_ was a class he was excited for. He’d worked on several productions in elementary school, but they were all original educational plays, like that one about the history of Elwood City. By contrast, from what he’d heard, _this_ school put on full productions of classic musicals, as well as having a drama club to give kids even more opportunities to perform.

“Hey,” said a concerned voice, snapping him from his thoughts. He had been slumped against his locker, hoping the nausea that came with all that jogging on a full stomach would go away in the five minutes before his next class. George looked up and saw the boy who once had been his greatest tormentor, but had kind of become his friend—the boy who once had been known as Binky, but now was known as Shelley (even if that detail hadn't sunk in for George yet).

“Hey, Binky,” George replied, trying to prop himself up more.

“Actually, it’s Shelley now.” He gave George a pleasant smile.

“Shelley?”

“Yeah. I decided to give my real name a try, and I really like it so far.”

“Oh, right. I forgot that’s your real name. Hi, Shelley.”

“Hi.” His smile turned into a frown. “Are you okay? I saw you leaning against the lockers, and you looked like you were dead.”

“Oh, um, yeah,” George said embarrassedly. “I just had gym right after lunch.”

Shelley gave an understanding, “Oh. That sucks.”

George knew Shelley was allowed to watch PG-13 movies, but had only ever heard him say things “stunk.” Things never “sucked” when it came to Shelley. George wondered if Shelley was trying to feel more grown-up. It wasn’t a real curse word, but it was rude, and it carried… _implications_ that the word “stunk” didn’t. George hadn’t quite figured out what those implications were yet, but he knew the word sounded dirty, naughty somehow.

“Yeah,” George laughed awkwardly. 

“I had band after lunch. What class are you going to now?”

“Social Studies. How about you?”

“Same! If we’re in the same room, I can help you get to class.”

“Help me?”

“Well, yeah. You obviously can’t do it yourself, in your current condition.”

The way Shelley was talking, he was making it sound like George was pregnant or something. Still, George just shrugged, accepting the offer for help getting to class. His stomach was still killing him, after all.

Shelley placed a hand on the small of George’s back and began guiding him down the hall. “Everyone move!” he ordered loudly. George covered his face with his hand. “Sick boy coming through!”

“I’m not sick,” George grumbled, humiliated to have such a big scene made over him on his first day. But Shelley’s announcement was effective: it cleared the hallway and allowed them to walk down the center as everyone else stood to the sides. George didn’t uncover his face until they reached the classroom and Shelley opened the door. When George dared to look, he was relieved to see Fern sitting in there. He walked over to sit beside her.

Fern turned to him and smiled. Her smile faded quickly when she determined there was something wrong with him. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I just had gym class right after lunch and I’m not feeling very good right now.”

“Oh. Is there any way you can talk about changing your schedule?”

“I don’t know.”

Shelley sat at the desk across from George. George didn’t mind as long as Shelley didn’t cause any more scenes for the day. George was usually pretty forgiving.

Fortunately, George didn’t need to forgive Shelley for anything else, since Shelley was on his best behavior through Social Studies. After class, the three of them walked to Drama together and were pleased to find that most of their friends were there.

“This is going to be _so_ much fun,” Muffy gushed. “I hope they’ll let me help with the costumes!”

The class settled down when the instructor cleared her throat. “Hello, everyone. My name is Ms. Everett, and I’ll be your teacher. You _are_ all here for Drama, right?”

A chorus of resounding, excited, “Yes!”

Ms. Everett proceeded to call roll, then gave a little information about herself, an overview of the class…and then came the really exciting news: announcing which musical they were putting on this semester. The room went silent as everyone waited to hear which musical they were doing. But the teacher didn’t say. Instead, she handed stacks of stapled packets to the kids in the front row and instructed them to pass them back. Some kids seemed excited, some seemed confused, and others didn’t even react to their scripts. The stacks finally reached George, and he let out a quiet, “Yes!” when he saw which musical they were doing.

Shelley looked at him surprisedly. “ _You_ know Guys and Dolls?”

George shrugged. “Yeah. Why’s that so surprising?”

Shelley shrugged. “You just don’t seem like the musical theater type, that’s all.”

There was a time George never would’ve pegged Shelley as the musical theater type, either, but then he found out he was into dancing.

“Guys and Dolls?” Francine whispered to Muffy. “Seems kind of outdated.”

“Yeah,” Muffy agreed indignantly. “Nobody calls girls ‘dolls’ anymore.” Then, louder. “When was this play even written?”

“It first premiered in 1950,” Ms. Everett answered from the front of the room. “We’ll have plenty of time to rehearse down the road, so since this is the first day, we’re going to start by watching the film adaptation. I don’t want you guys to copy their performances. That’s not what acting is about. But watching it will give you an idea of what it’s about, and if you find their performances inspiring, and would like to draw _elements_ from them, that’s okay.” 

After the movie, she turned off the TV. “Tomorrow, we’re going to start reading through the script in class. It’s not a rehearsal: it’s a reading. By the way, if any of you are interested in more opportunities to perform, we have a drama club here after school every Thursday. If any of you are interested, you can just stick around after school Thursday, or you can talk to me after school if you’d like more information. Otherwise, feel free to socialize until the bell rings, and then have a nice afternoon.”

As they walked out the door, Fern whispered, “It might be too soon to tell, but I think she’s my favorite teacher so far.”

“Mine, too,” Buster agreed.

“She seems nice,” Muffy conceded, “but she also thinks it’s okay to make us do plays that refer to girls as _dolls_.”

“Yeah!” Francine joined in. “Why do we seem to be the only ones bothered by this?”

“You’re not,” Jenna said quietly. “You’re just the only ones making a big deal of it.”

“Of course _you’re_ not making a big deal of it,” Muffy said. “You never make a big deal of anything. I’m surprised you’re even taking drama, with how little you talk.”

Jenna stopped. She actually stopped walking. She turned around and walked back into the classroom, hugging her books to her chest.

“Well, that wasn’t very nice,” Shelley pointed out. When he decided to stop bullying, he also decided not to just stand by and idly let other people do it, either.

“Well, it was true. Besides, who are you to talk?” Alluding to his own sordid past.

“Somebody who used to do what you just did all the time, but then realized it was wrong.”

“Hey! Guys!” Buster said, stepping between them. “C’mon. It’s the first day. Let’s save our drama for rehearsals, alright?”

Muffy crossed her arms and walked away. Shelley exhaled. “Thanks for that.”

“No problem.” Buster frowned, looking back at the classroom. “I just hope Jenna’s okay.” He didn’t seem to care enough to go back into the classroom and check on her, though. Neither did anyone else. George hesitated, considered it…but walked on with his friends instead.


	7. Chapter 7

**CH7**

By the time their first drama club meeting rolled around, they had been in school for almost a week and were starting to get used to their new schedules. They could all use a little fun, though.

Their second day of Drama class, Ms. Everett had asked if anyone in the class could do a New York accent.

“A New York accent?” George had asked in a perfect New York accent. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. What’s a New York accent?”

As the rest of the class laughed, Ms. Everett smiled and rolled her eyes. “Thank you, George. Anyone else?”

That day, George was tasked with performing the role of Nicely-Nicely Johnson in their rehearsals. Much to her chagrin, Muffy was tasked with playing Adelaide. Those were the only roles handed out off the bat, while others were doled out throughout their first read-through.

The other Tough Customers joined Shelley at their first drama club meeting, even though the only one of them who was actually in Drama was Slink. Surprisingly, Slink had landed the role of Sky Masterson in Guys and Dolls, while Shelley had landed the role of Benny. But this wasn’t about that. It was about solidarity and another opportunity for them all to spend more time together.

Among the others who showed up were George, Buster, Fern, and…Jenna? Shelley had to admire her for showing up to drama club after what Muffy said their first day. In Drama class the last few days, he’d noticed Jenna seemed a bit withdrawn. But here she was for drama club, with Muffy and Francine nowhere to be seen, and Shelley thought that spoke volumes.

“Alright, let’s go ahead and get started,” Ms. Everett said after having allowed a few minutes for potential stragglers. “First: for anyone who doesn’t know, I’m Ms. Everett. I’ve been the Drama teacher here for six years. Every year, we produce two musicals.” All of them who had taken Drama had heard her spiel. “If you’ve already had Drama with me, or if you have an older sibling who took classes with me, you already know this, but you might not know what we do in drama club, so I’m about to give you a rundown of what to expect this semester.

The first month or so will be spent doing acting warmups and playing games. After all, this club is for fun. We’ll also be selecting monologues to memorize and recite in front of the group. Again, it’s nothing formal. Just us. The first _real_ event we’ll be doing will be our school’s Halloween event. The drama club is responsible for the event’s haunted house, as well as performing a few short Halloween related scenes. After Halloween, we’ll have a few more weeks of just fun, then we’ll get to work on our production of A Christmas Carol, which we’ll perform right before winter break. Does anyone have any questions?”

George sheepishly raised his hand.

“Yes?”

“Does us being responsible for the haunted house mean we get to build it?”

“Yes, it does, George. Would you like to help build it?”

George nodded.

“Alright. We can talk some more about it closer to when we get started. Anyone else?”

Nobody else raised their hands.

\---

“Okay,” Shelley said as he sat down with the former Tough Customers the next day at lunch. “I’ve got an idea.”

Molly quirked a brow. “About?”

“About the playground.”

Rattles practically rolled his eyes. Not something Shelley was used to, since Rattles had followed him almost blindly in elementary school. “This again? We told you, we already talked to the Principal.”

“Yeah, I know, but have you tried conducting a poll? Maybe if we survey enough of the student body, and we can prove there’s enough of a demand, he’ll change his mind.”

Rattles rubbed his chin in a thinking manner. “Well, I mean, maybe. It could be worth a try.”

Molly shrugged. “At least we’d be able to say we didn’t give up after our first try.” She then got a devilish grin. “And even if we don’t get our way this year, we’ve still got a whole other year to try.”

“Yeah!” Slink agreed.

Shelley didn’t comment on the fact that for him, it would actually be two years left that he’d have to try. He was a little bit sad that his friends didn’t really try to keep up the good fight without him. What, they tried once and gave up? Who knows what would’ve happened if he hadn’t joined back up with them? Thank goodness he only got held back once and not twice.

“So, how about if each of us goes around tomorrow during lunch next week and gets as many signatures as possible? We can compare our results at the end of the week.”

Rattles rubbed his chin again. “So what I’m gettin’ is that you’re actually looking to do more of a petition than a poll. I could get behind that.”

“So, next week, we’ll do this?” asked Slink.

Shelley nodded. “If all of us agree.”

Molly shrugged, looking at Rattles. “I don’t see why not.”

Rattles, who until then had been contemplative, shrugged, as well. “I don’t, either. If we lose, we lose. At least we can say we tried.”

Across the cafeteria, George, Fern, and Sue Ellen were having a planning session of their own.

“Hey, guys,” George said excitedly. “What do you guys think about the haunted house coming up?”

Sue Ellen laughed nervously. “Well, I don’t know. I’ve never actually been through a haunted house.”

George’s eyes went wide. “You _haven’t_?”

Sue Ellen shook her head, averting her eyes. 

“Um…” Fern joined in. “Actually, I haven’t, either. I’d really like to, though! Why, George? Have you?”

George nodded. “Only a kid-friendly one, though. Nothing _really_ scary.”

It was Fern’s turn to go wide-eyed. “You did? Really?”

George nodded again.

“Oh, man, you’re so lucky! I’ve never even been through a kid-friendly one, let alone a really scary one. I’d really like to, though.”

“Why haven’t you been?”

“My parents won’t let me. They say I’m too young.”

“My dad might be able to take us to one. I really want our haunt to be a _really_ scary one, but I would want to go through a real haunted house first to get ideas.”

“I agree,” Sue Ellen chimed in.

“So do I,” Fern said tentatively. “I’d just have to talk to my parents first. I’m not sure if they’d approve of it.”

“You know,” Sue Ellen said, “what your parents don’t know can’t hurt them. You don’t have to tell them this is what you’re doing. You could just say that you’re meeting up for drama club, and you wouldn’t technically be lying, because going to a haunted house would be doing research for a real drama club event.”

Neither Fern nor George had anything to say for a moment. Sue Ellen didn’t seem to be the type to make this suggestion.

“Thanks, Sue Ellen,” Fern finally replied. “I’ll think about it.”

In truth? Despite her reputation as a queen of horror? She enjoyed scaring other people. That was what Fern liked. That was Fern’s talent. But when it came to _getting_ scared? When it came to that, she wasn’t so good. It seemed so hypocritical that she would love to scare people so much but have no tolerance for being scared herself. She couldn’t admit that to her friends.

Meanwhile, at yet another table in the cafeteria, Muffy and Francine were deep in conversation. 

“I wouldn’t even have any real problem with it, if they didn’t call girls ‘dolls’,” Muffy insisted. “I mean, it’s got catchy songs and the female characters are actually pretty interesting.”

Francine looked at her incredulously. “You _really_ think the female characters are interesting? Haven’t we talked about this before? About how if a girl is only there to be a boy’s girlfriend, she almost might as well not be there at all?”

Muffy withdrew slightly. “But Adelaide is _not_ there just to be a male character’s girlfriend. She’s also a character in her own right, as a performer who wants _so_ much more, and she even almost leaves her boyfriend, which was honestly the right choice to make. She was too good for him.” She wiped away a fake tear.

Francine started in. “Oh, yeah? Well, she also stayed engaged to the same guy for fourteen years! We haven’t even been alive that long! It took her almost a decade and a half to gain some dignity, and in the end, she _still_ ended up marrying the guy!”

Muffy threw her hair behind her shoulders. “Well, maybe you’re just jealous of Adelaide.”

At that, Francine had to balk. “Why would _I_ be jealous of a _fictional character_?”

“Because she’s beautiful and talented and she has a guy.”

“A guy you said she’s too good for.”

“You are _so_ right about that.” She wiped away another fake tear as she turned away. Francine just shook her head.


	8. Chapter 8

George sat on his bed with Wally. “What if your dad doesn’t let you go through a haunted house?” he made Wally say. “What if you don’t even want him to let you? Haunted houses are pretty scary!”

“I’ve been through a haunted house before,” George countered as himself. “It was more fun than scary.”

“Yeah, but that was a kid-friendly one. It wasn’t a _really_ scary haunted house, like the kind you want to make for your school’s Halloween event. And even if your dad lets you go through a real haunted house, who’s to say that Sue Ellen’s or Fern’s parents will let them go through one? Your whole plan for the drama club’s haunted house would be ruined!”

Not for the first time, George didn’t like what Wally was saying. He took his hand out of the puppet and let it sit on his leg silently. When he was sure Wally had nothing else to say, he put him back in the closet until bedtime. In the meantime, George did his homework, including working on his lines for the play.

\---

_Dear Buster,_

_I have heard of Y2K! My dad says it’s a bunch of hogwash. He said that we need to trust tech specialists right now, because they’ll figure out a solution to the bug before the new year comes. And just in case you don’t know what the bug is, it’s the idea that at the beginning of the new year, computers will say it’s 1900 instead of 2000. A lot of people seem to think that’ll lead to a lot of problems for some reason. Gas, electricity, and water going out. Libraries giving people the wrong due date. But my dad trusts that things will work out, and I trust my dad, so I have to trust that things will work out._

_Like I said, I understand you not being ready to tell anyone else, but I can’t help hoping to hear you’ve told someone else besides me. I’m closer to you than I used to be, but I’m still more than a six hour drive away! Speaking of, I hope that now that we’re closer, maybe we can finally see each other for the first time in years. But I’m getting off track. My point is that I can’t help but feel lonely for you. If you don’t feel lonely having the only person who knows you like boys be someone who lives more than a six hour drive from you, that’s great and amazing, but I still can’t help the way I feel. I still can’t help but feel like at least one person who lives in Elwood City should know. But that’s just me. Really, I cross my heart, I’m not trying to make you tell anyone else if you’re not comfortable with it yet. I’m just saying that if you feel as lonely as I would if I was in your shoes, maybe you should think about telling someone out there you trust. And I know you’ve got people you can trust! But again, that’s only if you’re feeling lonely or uncomfortable having me be the only one who knows._

_But Lord, I’m going off on a tangent! I’m sure you’d like to know how my first day of middle school went. It went fine. I haven’t really made any friends yet. Maybe that’s the real reason loneliness is on my mind right now. Mind you, I’ve met some people I can talk to. But having someone to talk to isn’t exactly the same as having a friend, right? Like how I could tell you guys stories and warm you up to me before I could really consider y’all friends, right? That’s kind of where I am again. To tell the truth, I’m missing you terribly. I’m missing my friends from Oregon terribly, too. I’m scared this won’t end till I turn 18. I’m scared that until then, every few years, I’ll move to a new place and have to start over again and have to put extra effort into keeping the few friends from old places that I still have. But I’m getting real glum on you now._

_Let me just put it this way: if you don’t call me in the next week or so, Buster Baxter, I will be calling you. I miss you. I love you._

_Your friend,_

_Ladonna Compson_

\---

As soon as he finished reading that letter, Buster Baxter called Ladonna Compson. Her mom picked up. “Hello, Mrs. Compson,” Buster greeted cheerfully.

“Hello, Buster.” Ladonna’s whole family knew his voice by now. “I’m guessing you’re calling for Ladonna. She’s doing homework right now, but I’ll tell her you called, and she can call you back later tonight.”

“Oh. Uh, okay, Mrs. Compson. Thanks!”

“You’re welcome. Nice hearing from you, Buster.”

Buster had a hard time focusing on his own homework, since he was so preoccupied with waiting for Ladonna to call him back. When he heard the phone ring from the other room, he jumped, but he didn’t leave his bedroom, instead waiting to see if his mom brought the phone to him.

“Just one moment,” he heard his mother say, followed by footsteps toward his room. His mom knocked on his door. “Buster? Ladonna’s on the phone.”

Buster sprang from his chair and opened the door. “Thanks, mom,” he said as he snatched the phone from her, then without another word, he closed the door again. He pictured his mom with an expression of disbelief on the other side of that door, but it didn’t really bother him. He pressed the phone to his ear and sat back down. “Ladonna! Hi!”

He could practically hear the relief in his friend’s voice. “Buster! How’ve ya been?”

“I’ve been alright.” His shoulders slumped in guilt. “If I’d known you felt lonely, I would’ve tried to be a better friend to you.”

“What?! Buster, you’ve been the best friend a girl could have. Aside from coming out here or flying me out there yourself, how could you possibly be a better friend to me than you have been?”

Buster shrugged half-heartedly, not that Ladonna could see it. “I don’t know. Calling you more often instead of mostly just writing? I’ve been kind of lonely, too,” he confessed. “I’ve got friends in my afternoon classes, but I don’t have any friends before lunch. It seems as if _all_ my friends have at least one class with a friend before lunch, and I’m the only one left out.” Another wave of guilt washed over him. Here he was, complaining about only spending time with friends for half the school day, when to his knowledge, Ladonna still hadn’t made any real friends at all at her new school. “But enough about me. How was your first week?”

“Oh, it was fine,” she said with a wave of her hand in her voice, completely dismissing all the loneliness she’d admitted to in her letter. “I’m sure I’ll make friends in time. For now, I’ve got some people I kinda like. Like I said in my letter.” She shrugged. Not that Buster could see. “I like my teachers,” she offered.

Buster perked up at that. “Oh, yeah? I like most of mine, too. What are yours like?”

And Ladonna launched into an explanation of each of her teachers’ different quirks and mannerisms. Buster was happy just to listen, only interjecting occasionally with a question or a laugh.

“What about yours?” Ladonna asked when she finished regaling him with her descriptions of each of her teachers.

Then, it was Buster’s turn to delve into his teachers’ quirks and mannerisms. He felt like his depictions were sub par when compared to Ladonna’s, but if anyone asked Ladonna, she would say she felt that her depictions were sub par when compared to Buster’s. Of course, neither kid actually knew the other kid’s teachers. They were going off of description alone, and had no way of knowing if the descriptions were accurate. But still, in either case, they each felt the other did a superb job describing their teachers.

“I feel a lot better now,” Ladonna said, and from the tone of her voice, Buster could tell she meant it.

“That’s good,” Buster said with a smile.

“Oh, hang on!” After a few seconds of silence, Ladonna got back on, sounding disappointed. “My dad needs to use the internet.”

“Oh, okay. Write to me soon, okay? And you can call me anytime.”

“I will. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Ladonna?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you, too.”

He could practically hear the smile in her voice. “Goodnight, Buster.”

“Goodnight.”

He hung up and returned to battling his homework.

The beautiful thing was that Ladonna and Buster could tell each other they loved each other and genuinely mean it while each understanding that it was a platonic love and not worrying that the other would think it meant they were _in_ love. Even in elementary school, they had felt able to tell each other they liked each other; saying they loved each other was simply the next logical progression. There was none of the toxicity of Arthur’s and Francine’s friendship, where they were constantly afraid people would think that just because they were close friends, and one of them was a boy and the other was a girl, that meant they were in love. Truth be told, some of that toxicity had even carried over into middle school. Buster didn’t understand it. A boy and a girl should be able to be friends without people thinking it meant they were in love. At least, that was how Buster Baxter saw things.


	9. Chapter 9

Muffy sat on her bed with her script for Guys and Dolls. The more time she spent with the character of Adelaide, the more she could relate to her. Which was part of acting, right? Being able to relate to the character you were playing?

The problem was that she had judged the character (and the play itself) _way_ too quickly, and had openly taken a stance against them. And her best friend had agreed with her, and was now even talking about bringing it up to Ms. Everett. Muffy didn’t see the point, since she couldn’t imagine Ms. Everett deciding to do a different play just because one student didn’t like it. At the same time…while Muffy had gained a new appreciation for both Guys and Dolls in general and Adelaide specifically, she could also still relate to the problems Francine had. After all, as Francine pointed out, Adelaide stayed engaged to a guy who didn’t deserve her for _fourteen years_. And there was the problem with calling girls “dolls.” Muffy hated feeling like she didn’t know what was right or what she should do. She was so confident so often that when she did feel uncertain like this, it really threw her for a loop. Maybe Francine would just give up and she wouldn’t have to do anything. But if she knew Francine—and she did—Francine would protest until opening night.

Muffy set her script down and sulked to her dad. “Daddy?”

Ed Crosswire was working, but turned away from it when his daughter approached. “What is it, Muffin?”

Muffy looked down at her feet as she shuffled her weight from one to the other, back and forth. “What do you do if you don’t agree with a friend about something important?”

Her father attempted to make eye contact with her, but she was stubborn in her determination to stare at her feet. “Can you be more specific?” he asked.

Muffy finally looked up at him. It was like a dam burst. “We’re doing this play at school, and Francine thinks we shouldn’t do it because it’s sexist, and in some ways I agree with her, but I disagree in other ways, and I’d really like to do the play and play the character I got cast as, because I’ve gotten to really like the character, but I also don’t want to hurt my friendship with Francine.” She ran the few paces between herself and her father to hug him.

Her dad hugged her back confusedly. “What play is it?”

“Guys and Dolls.” She pulled back to look at him. “And at first, _I_ was the one saying the play was sexist, for calling girls dolls. But now, Francine feels more strongly about it than I ever did, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Hmm, that is a tough one. Guys and Dolls has some great music, but I can understand both of your points of view. I think the important thing is to keep it in perspective. It was written in a time when treating women a certain way was acceptable in a way that just isn’t accepted today.” He looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “In fact, I think your mother still has some of her old books and magazines about feminism. If you’re looking for a more balanced perspective, it might be worth asking her.”

“But how will that solve my problem with Francine?”

“After you read them, if you still disagree with Francine, you could share them with her and see if it helps her change her mind.”

Muffy smiled big and hugged her dad again. “Oh, daddy, you always have the right answer!”

\---

George winced as he saw Shelley approaching his lunch table. George was sat with Fern and Sue Ellen, as usual (probably not the best thing for his image if he spent most of his time with girls, but he didn’t tend to dwell on that). It was strange: Shelley hadn’t bullied him since third grade, but George still seemed to wince away from him. Then again, there were incidents like the one from their first day of middle school. Shelley loudly announcing to the entire hallway that George was sick (which he really wasn’t!) on their first day of middle school? That wasn’t cool. 

But as he approached the table, Shelley wore the same pleasant smile that he often wore. How could anyone wince when they saw a smile like that? Then again, what had happened their first day…

“Hello!” Shelley greeted. “I’m conducting a poll. Do you guys think this school would be better if it had a playground?”

George, Fern, and Sue Ellen looked at each other, surprised by the question. George shrugged and looked back at Shelley. “Well, yeah.”

Fern and Sue Ellen each nodded and said, “Yeah.”

Shelley held out the pen and clipboard he was carrying. “Then can I get each of your signatures?”

Fern took the clipboard and pen and signed the petition. There were already a number of other names on it. She passed it to George, who signed it and passed it to Sue Ellen, who signed it and passed it back to Shelley.

“Thanks,” Shelley said, taking back the clipboard and pen. “You’ve done a great service to this school.” He clicked his pen. Again, again, again. “Hey, George? I’ve been reading over our script for drama, and I noticed that we have a lot of scenes together. Do you wanna practice together sometime?”

It took conscious effort for George to keep his mouth from falling open. He managed to keep from going slack-jawed, but barely. It was one thing to ask for his and his friends’ opinions for a poll. It was another to ask if he wanted to practice lines with him, especially with Shelley’s former reputation as George’s bully, and especially _especially_ if he was asking in front of George’s friends. But George couldn’t say anything besides, “Sure.” 

Shelley frantically clicked his pen a few more times, then nodded. “Great! We can talk about it more in class.” With that, Shelley turned and left their table.

“What was that all about?” Fern asked.

“Beats me,” George answered. He figured changing the subject would be a good move. “Have either of you talked to your parents about going to a haunted house?”

“Oh, yeah!” Sue Ellen answered excitedly. “My parents think it sounds like fun. In fact, they want to go to a haunted house, too. They’ve even started researching haunted houses in town—even though none of them will be open for more than a month.” She looked at Fern. “What about you?”

Fern fidgeted, not looking at her. “Well…”

“Don’t tell me you still haven’t asked them?”

Now, Fern did look at Sue Ellen. “I’m scared,” she said point blank, and she didn’t mean about asking her parents. She meant about going to a haunted house period. Bute she’d rather leave it ambiguous and let her friends think she was scared of asking her parents rather than admit she was scared to go through a haunted house.

“What are you so afraid of?” Sue Ellen asked. “You won’t know for sure if they’ll say no unless you ask them.”

“That’s true…”

Fern could always lie to her friends and tell them her parents had said no if she needed to.

\---

“I bet I’ve got more signatures than any of you,” Slink bragged.

“I bet you don’t,” Molly jabbed back playfully.

“Please,” Rattles said, motioning for them to settle down. “I think we all know who the real champion is.”

“I bet we do,” Shelley said as he joined them. “It’s me!”

“Hang on, I’m not so sure about that,” Rattles said, rapidly approaching his friend.

“Yeah, what gives?” Molly inquired, approaching him, as well.

Shelley held up his hands (still holding his clipboard and pen). “Whoa, hold on just a minute. Let’s see what the actual numbers tell us, huh?”

They tallied up how many signatures each of them got, and in the end, it turned out Slink got the most.

“Hah!” Slink exclaimed, making finger guns at his friends. “I knew it!”

Molly, Rattles, and Shelley were left scratching their heads. Of all the Tough Customers, Slink had always been pretty quiet. None of the three of them expected him to get the most signatures, but he had.

Molly rolled her eyes and grabbed Slink’s wrist. “Whatever. This isn’t a competition between _us_ ; it’s all about taking our combined signatures to the Principal, right?”

“That’s right,” Shelley said, as if having been shaken out of a stupor. “It’s not about us. It’s about this _school_.”

Rattles smiled and nodded. “Right. It’s about the _school_.”

And with that, the four of them walked to the office.


	10. Chapter 10

Arthur was unimpressed as he watched yet another news story about Y2K. He knew Buster was eating all of this up. As for Arthur? He chose to turn off the TV before the story ended. He had homework to do, anyway.

Arthur found that he was having trouble with math. Every other subject, he was doing well in so far. The fact that he was struggling with math was almost laughable, considering his skills in music. Music practically _was_ math. But it was addition. Subtraction. Multiplication. Division. All things he’d mastered in elementary school. All things he was familiar with. At least, that was what he was using to excuse the fact that he was struggling in math. Suddenly, in sixth grade beginners’ algebra, _letters_ had been added to the equation. X+2=9? What did “X” even mean? He couldn’t wrap his head around it.

That was probably the reason that, on that particular night, he reached out to Brain. Brain had always done well in math and science--at least for as long as Arthur had known him.

“Hello?” Arthur heard Brain answer.

“Hi, Brain?” He could recognize his friend’s voice, but it was always polite to make sure he was talking to the person he thought he was talking to.

“Yes?” A brief pause. Then: “Is this Arthur?”

“Yes! Sorry, Brain.”

“It’s okay. What do you need?”

Arthur was taken aback at that. “What do you mean, what do I need? How do you know I need something?”

“That’s the only reason anyone else in my classes calls me,” Brain responded, sounding more nonchalant than Arthur thought he’d be able to sound under those circumstances. “Because they need help with homework. So, what do you need help with?”

Arthur felt instantly guilty for calling Brain for homework help. “I’m not calling for help with homework, Brain,” he lied.

“Really?” Brain asked skeptically.

“Yeah,” Arthur said, though he wasn’t sure he sounded convincing.

“What did you call me for, then?”

“Um, I was just wondering if you know anything about Y2K,” he said quickly. Since Y2K had just been on his mind (thanks to that stupid news story), it was the first thing he thought of to say.

“Oh. That.” Brain sounded equal parts disappointed and relieved. “Was Buster talking about it again?”

“No, I just saw a report about it on the news.”

“And what did the report about it say?”

Arthur got a bit bashful then. “It said that computer specialists are working on a solution.”

“I trust science, Arthur. And scientists—including computer specialists. They’re scientists, too, you know?”

“I actually never thought about it that way.”

“Well, it’s true. Science and technology are closely related. And so are engineering and math. It’s what led to the acronym STEM. And I guarantee those scientists will find a solution in time.”

“Okay, but what’s the _problem_?”

Brain blinked. “You mean…you don’t know?”

“No! Buster keeps talking like it’s the end of the world, and news reports keep talking about working on a solution, but I don’t think I’ve heard a single news report say what the problem is, and neither has Buster.”

Brain rubbed between his eyes. “Okay. The problem is that people are afraid that when the year hits 2000, computers will register it as the year 1900 instead of the year 2000. People think this could lead to a global catastrophe—libraries getting shut down, gas, electricity, and water getting shut off. Did you really not hear any of those details?”

“No!” Arthur answered, alarmed. “Cross my heart!”

“Well, a lot of people are scared. But I think the scientists are going to come up with a solution before the—” He lowered his voice, looking around to make sure his parents weren’t nearby and even then, he cupped his hand over the receiver of the phone to muffle the sound of what he was about to say. “Before the shit hits the fan.”

Arthur blinked. He’d never heard Brain curse before, and to be honest, he never thought he would. It seemed so out of character for the guy. Still, he felt like he couldn’t give away his surprise. “Thanks, Brain. I feel like I’ve learned a few things from our conversation.” One of those things being that Brain was the type who would curse to get his point across, but only if his parents couldn’t hear him.

“I’m glad I could help you.”

That made Arthur wince. The whole reason he’d lied about wanting to know more about Y2K was so that Brain wouldn’t think Arthur called him just to get help from him, but in the end, Brain ended up helping Arthur after all. Arthur deserved to fail his upcoming math quiz, as recompence for this whole interaction. Or so he told himself. He didn’t _really_ want to fail, even if he felt that was what he deserved.

“I’m glad, too,” Arthur lied.

“Well, then, if there’s nothing else?”

“No.” Arthur shrunk into himself. “Thanks, Brain. I’ll see you at school.”

“I’ll see you at school, Arthur.”

“Yeah. And Brain?”

“Huh?”

“I really mean it. Thanks.”

Brain smiled. “Sure, Arthur. Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

As soon as he hung up with Brain, Arthur called Buster. He figured his best friend would be interested in hearing what Brain had to say about Y2K. Unfortunately, Arthur was answered with that screeching sound that told him someone on the other end was using the internet. He immediately hung up and tried to get back to his homework. But even as he worked on his homework, he tried to think of ways he could make Brain feel appreciated.

\---

Brain really did feel like an outsider sometimes. Like when the principal was doing morning announcements over the intercom and announced that the first dance of the year would be in a few weeks. His classmates buzzed excitedly around him—their first school dance _ever_! But Brain didn’t see what the big deal was. He was much more excited for Tech Club and competing in Science Olympiad for the first time. George was in Tech Club, as well, but was more committed to his Drama activities.

What Brain didn’t know at the time was that he wasn’t the only kid in sixth grade who wasn’t excited about the school dance. In fact, there were a _lot_ of sixth graders who didn’t really care. They were just a few months out of elementary school. They weren’t looking at dances as dating opportunities or anything like that. Even the sixth graders who were excited weren’t thinking about asking crushes to the dance—they were excited more in the rite of passage kind of way.

For at least one sixth grader in particular, the excitement was in the idea of being the best dressed girl at the dance. That sixth grader was Mary Alice Crosswire. This would be her first big chance to make an impression at her new school, and she wasn’t going to let it go to waste.

Muffy walked into the living room to the sight of her mother lounging on the couch, reading. Her father was still at work. “What are you reading?” Muffy asked.

“The Picture of Dorian Gray,” her mother answered absently, bookmarking her page and shutting the book on her chest. “Do you need something, sweetheart?”

Muffy shrugged. “The school dance is coming up soon, and it’s my first school dance _ever_ , and I want to make an impression, but I can’t do that with any of the old rags I have.”

Mrs. Crosswire sat up straighter, resting her book in her lap. “I wouldn’t call them rags, dear. What about that dress you wore to the opera in June?”

“But I’ve been to the opera before. I’m allowed to repeat outfits for things I’ve done before. This is my first school dance _ever_. I can’t be caught there in the same dress I wore to the opera two months ago.”

Mrs. Crosswire rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying and failing to understand the logic in what her young daughter was saying. “I don’t think any of your schoolmates will notice if you wear the same dress you wore to the opera two months ago. But if it’s really that important to you to have a new dress, I’ll double check with your father.”

“Thank you!”

“Was there anything else you needed?”

“Oh! Right! Daddy said you might have some books and magazines about feminism. Do you think you could let me borrow them?”

That perked Mrs. Crosswire up. “Of course! But why this sudden interest in feminism? Did something bring this on?”

Muffy rolled her eyes. “We’re doing Guys and Dolls at school. Do you know that play?”

“I do. And I can understand how it could spark your interest in feminism.”

“Well, I got cast as Adelaide, and the more I play her, the more I really like the character. But I still have some issues with the play, and so does Francine, so I thought it’d be best to educate myself.” She looked off to the side. “Well…it’s more like I asked Daddy for advice, and he suggested I educate myself.”

“I think your father is right. If you give me a while to do some digging, I’ll find those for you.”

“Great!” Muffy left her mother to get to that digging she promised.

\---

Nemo slunk into Francine’s and Catherine’s room. Francine didn’t even notice he was there until he began to rub against her legs. “Shoo,” she said quietly, trying to subtly push him away without disturbing her sister. She looked across the room. Catherine still had her headphones on and her back to Francine at her desk. Francine looked back down at her cat and tried to wave him away with her hands. Nemo didn’t back off. Instead, he leapt into Francine’s lap. “Nemo! Go away! I’m trying to study!”

“You know, you’re not the only one who’s trying to study here,” Catherine said, taking off her headphones. She turned to give Francine an annoyed look.

“I’m sorry!” Francine exclaimed as Nemo jumped back onto the floor and scurried out of the room. Oh, sure, yelling was what got him to finally take a hint. “Nemo was annoying me.”

“And now, you’re annoying me. It’s like a cycle.”

Francine didn’t say anything, too taken aback by her sister’s cruel words. Catherine put her headphones back on, turned back around…and then a few seconds later, took her headphones off and turned back to face her sister. “Hey, Frankie? I’m sorry. I’m really stressed out, but that was meaner than I meant it to be.”

Francine averted her eyes. “I get it. I mean, we’re both kind of in the same boat,” she said, extending a proverbial olive branch. “You’re adjusting to college, I’m adjusting to middle school. We’re both going through changes.”

Catherine snorted. “Except that the adjustment from elementary school to middle school isn’t nearly as big as the adjustment from high school to college.” She met Francine’s eyes. “Promise you won’t be like me, alright? Promise you’ll get a scholarship and go to a good school with on-campus housing and you’ll move away from home the first chance you get.”

Oh. _That_ was what Catherine’s attitude the last few months had been about. How could Francine not have seen it? Of course Catherine didn’t want to still be sharing a room with her middle school sister. Catherine was in _college_ now. Albeit, community college for the time being (which did not offer on-campus housing, hence Catherine’s still living at home), but college nonetheless.

“I—I promise,” Francine answered, but her lack of conviction didn’t convince Catherine.

“Because I waited until it was too late to try to apply for scholarships,” Catherine pressed. “And now I’m in community college and working at a craft store until I get better opportunities.”

Francine really didn’t know what to say to that. Catherine was still so young—only a few months out of high school and still a few months away from her nineteenth birthday—but she was already so down on herself, as if she’d somehow failed at life. There were probably a ton of people her age who were in similar positions. But since Catherine had so much more life experience than Francine, Francine didn’t feel it was really her place to offer any advice. So she simply nodded, then went back to her studying. This seemed to satisfy Catherine, because she put her headphones back on and turned her back to Francine.


	11. Chapter 11

“We’ve gotta think of a way to make Brain feel appreciated,” Arthur asserted.

Buster blinked at his best friend. “Why? Is he feeling kind of down?”

“I called him the other night to ask for help with homework, and he knew right away that’s what I was calling for. I changed the subject and didn’t have the heart to ask for help after that, and I got a bad grade on the assignment. I think he feels like we only call him when we need something.”

“Well, let’s just invite him to chill sometime without any homework or anything. That’ll prove that we don’t just want to spend time with him if we need something.”

Arthur shook his head. “I was thinking something bigger. Like…miss the dance big.” He looked meekly at his friend, anticipating an unhappy reaction to that suggestion.

Buster stopped walking and turned to Arthur with saucer eyes. “Miss the dance?” he asked indignantly, living up to Arthur’s expectations. “We can’t miss the dance!”

“Buster, what do you want to go to the dance for, anyway? You don’t really like dancing, and you don’t even like girls that way yet.”

Buster swallowed around a lump in his throat, trying not to give it away how much that statement bothered him. He thought about what Ladonna kept telling him—about how important it was to her that he tell someone in Elwood City. Now, he finally got why she kept pushing him (even if she insisted she wasn’t pushing him). He finally got why it was so important to her that he tell more of the people in his life. 

Because here he was with the boy who had been his best friend for practically his entire life, and there was still this side of himself that was a stranger to Arthur.

Buster could remember it like it was yesterday. It happened soon after he met Arthur. He and Arthur were playing on the playground at the park on a Saturday. Their moms sat on a bench nearby, keeping a close eye on their sons even as they chitchatted with each other. Arthur and Buster had climbed up to go down one of the slides when Buster paused. He saw a little girl playing ring around the rosie…by herself. She spun in a circle as she sang the rhyme, and when she got to the end, she flopped herself onto the sand. The little girl rose back to her feet, dusted herself off, and began singing and twirling again. Buster couldn’t _stand_ to see a kid playing by themselves. He hurried down the slide and ran over to her.

“Hi,” he greeted with a wave. “My name is Buster.”

She stopped singing and looked at him almost timidly. “My name is Jocelyn,” she said quietly.

“Wanna play?”

Jocelyn nodded.

“Arthur!” Buster called. Arthur launched himself down the slide and ran over to them. “Arthur, this is Jasmine.”

“Jocelyn,” the girl corrected quietly.

“Jocelyn,” Buster repeated. He’d never heard a name quite like that, so it was hard for his young brain to remember. It didn’t help that his favorite movie at the time was Aladdin, and the main female character of that movie was named Jasmine—a name that started with J just like Jocelyn. Had their friendship lasted beyond that day, he probably would have needed to be reminded a few more times before he finally got it on his own the first try. But young friendships are often fleeting, sometimes not lasting longer than a day, and this was one of them.

“Do you wanna play ring around the rosie?” Buster asked Jocelyn.

Jocelyn shook her head. “We should play London Bridge.”

Buster lit up at that. He loved that game. “Okay!” Never mind that it would be harder to play with three people than it would be to play with a big group. He grabbed both of Jocelyn’s hands in his and rose them above their heads. They began singing as Arthur walked in circles, passing under their joined hands over and over again, waiting for the fateful moment when their hands would drop and trap him.

Buster’s mom giggled to Arthur’s mom as she watched. “It looks like Buster might have a new girlfriend,” she remarked jokingly.

Even after all these years, Buster still didn’t know if she meant for him to hear that or not. What he did know was that even at that young age, he noticed a difference between the way his mom talked about his female friends versus his male friends. Of course, she grew out of it (though he shuddered to think of how she’d start teasing him about his female friends again when he hit puberty), but she didn’t grow out of it fast enough for him not to notice. When he’d met Arthur, there had been no giggling. There had been no remarks about Arthur potentially being Buster’s new boyfriend. The situation wasn’t that different from when he met Jocelyn: he’d seen a kid playing alone and had tried to make them feel less lonely. The biggest difference he noticed was that Jocelyn was a girl, and Arthur was a boy.

There was a part of Buster that was a stranger even to his own _mother_.

Arthur noticed Buster was a million miles away and waved his hand in front of Buster’s face. Buster flinched and looked at his friend, blinking.

“Earth to Buster,” Arthur said, “come in Buster. I asked, why do you care so much about going to the dance, anyway?”

Buster looked away with a shrug. _You don’t even like girls that way yet._ Little did Arthur know that not only did Buster like girls that way already, but he also liked boys that way. But still. Even still, Buster couldn’t get himself to tell that to Arthur. Even still, he was afraid to tell anyone but Ladonna.

“It’s a rite of passage,” Buster offered up. “Our first school dance ever? How could we miss it?”

Arthur smiled then, sensing his opening. “I’ll tell you how, and it’s a way that will help make Brain feel appreciated.”

\---

“I can’t believe it,” Molly said as she slammed her palms against the doors, forcing them open. Rattles, Slink, and Shelley followed behind her at a safe distance.

Molly turned to face her friends. “I mean, we conducted a poll and everything. We proved that there’s a demand for playground equipment at this school, but they still denied us. For the second time!”

“Hey, toots, cool it,” Rattles said, holding up both hands. “All this means is that we’re moving on to phase three.”

Shelley didn’t mention the fact that they probably wouldn’t have ever entered phase two without him.

Molly gave Rattles a withering look. “And what’s phase three, exactly?”

Rattles looked to Slink and Shelley. Both shrugged simultaneously. Rattles rolled his eyes. “A lotta help you two are.” He looked back at Molly. “Look, the first time we tried this, they said there wasn’t a demand _or funding_ , right? We proved there’s a demand, right? So the next logical step is to prove there’s funding, too.” He looked between the other three. “Right?”

The other three looked at each other and nodded slowly, then turned back toward Rattles to exclaim, “Right!” All three were impressed that Rattles had come up with that on his own, but none of them wanted to admit it, because it would also mean admitting that they thought less of Rattles than they would say openly. But not anymore. Not after this.

“Okay,” Rattles said, dropping his voice so the others would huddle closer. “Here’s what we’ve gotta do: we’ve gotta do a fundraiser, right? Prove that the demand is high enough that people are willing to give money to build it?”

“We could sell chocolates,” Slink offered. The others blew the idea off with scoffs and huffs.

“No,” Shelley said slyly. “We run a silent auction. At the Halloween event.”

Rattles threw his hands up. “And what good is that going to do, huh?”

Shelley looked between the three of them slowly. “A bar of chocolate’ll sell for what, a dollar fifty? So it’ll take more than fifty of ‘em to get a hundred dollars. But a single clarinet in good condition, with unused reeds and everything…”

Rattles caught onto Shelley’s plan. “Aw, no, Shellster, don’t tell me you’re planning on auctioning off your clarinet.”

“My new one? No, of course not. That’s crazy. But my old one, which is still good? And throw in a few new reeds? It’d be the easiest hundred bucks any of us have ever made.”

They all smiled at each other as they started to see their plan come to fruition. Shelley shrugged. “And, just for the heck of it: why _no_ t run a chocolate sale alongside the silent auction? We could use all the money we can get.”


	12. Chapter 12

Buster hung up for the sixth time in fifteen minutes, then re-entered the number again almost immediately. “Come on, come on, come on,” he whispered as he hit dial and held the receiver to his ear. The grating sound of someone on the other end using the internet, just as he’d gotten the last six times he’d called that number. He knew it had only been fifteen minutes, but how long did someone need to use the internet (he himself had spent over an hour online the previous night reading Y2K conspiracy theories)? This was important!

He decided to connect to the internet himself before remembering that unless _she_ was the one tying up her family’s phone line right now, Ladonna wasn’t going to read any emails he sent her until after whoever was using the internet in her household was done. Still, the chances of her reading and replying to an email before she even got a snail letter were extremely good, so he had to bank on that. He would start typing up a rough draft of his email and save it, and then disconnect from the internet and keep trying to call her, and if he hadn’t gotten through by the time he had to go to bed, he would send the email. He logged into his account, opened a new message, and began to type.

_Dear Ladonna,_

_I am so scared._

_\---_

_Dear Diary,_

_I am so scared. I’m scared that I might not be able to find a way out of this. How could I lie to my best friends? How could I lie to my parents? How could I go through a haunted house, which is what my best friends want me to do and what I’m really scared of? And how could I tell my best friends and parents the truth? That I don’t really want to go through a haunted house? That I’m just not ready yet? That I’m just plain too scared to go through one?_

_Sue Ellen’s parents are so excited they want to go to a haunted house. George’s dad is willing to take us. Now that I think about it, why doesn’t his mom want to go? Maybe she’s scared like me?_

_When I think about it, actually going through the haunted house might be easier and less scary than any of the other choices. I don’t know for sure. I wish I had someone else to talk to about it._

_Love, Fern._

\---

Buster’s leg bounced as he waited once again for the phone to ring (ring, instead of just making that nasty sound). His breath hitched as he heard the dial tone. Whoever had been using the internet was apparently done. It was almost an hour since he’d saved the draft of his email, and he was getting awful close to having to send it. But he wouldn’t have to now, would he? Because now, he was going to get to talk to Ladonna and he wouldn’t have to actually send the drafted email to her.

“Hello?” Bud answered, sounding tired.

“Bud? I’m sorry. It’s getting close to your bedtime, right?”

Bud yawned. “Lemme guess: this is Buster calling for Ladonna.”

“Um, yes, you’re right.”

“Uh huh. I’ll go get ‘er.”

Buster waited awkwardly until he heard a rustling on the other end.

“Hello, Buster?”

Ladonna’s southern drawl had never sounded so sweet. “Ladonna!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah, what is it? I’ve got to go to bed soon.”

Buster’s ears drooped. “Oh. You, too, and not just Bud?”

Ladonna yawned. “I’ve got school at 7:30 am. And last I recall, so do you, Buster Baxter.”

“Okay, so you’re right. So what? It’s an emergency!”

“Uh huh.” Ladonna had long since gotten used to her best friend’s overreactions. “And what is this emergency, pray tell?”

“Well, I think I need to tell Arthur. And my mom.”

“Uh huh. About what?”

Buster’s voice took on an incredulous tone. “You know what!”

Ladonna sat up straighter, instantly alert, a smile on her face and in her voice. “Really? You’re finally ready?”

“Um. I kind of realized that there’s a part of me that no one else knows. No one except you, of course. But, um. My mom doesn’t know that about me, and Arthur doesn’t. And I feel like if there are two people besides you who should know, those are the two.”

Ladonna’s smile faded. “What about your dad?”

“My dad’s not as big a part of my life as my mom, as much as I wish he was.”

Ladonna’s faded smile turned into a full-blown frown. “Yeah. I know what that’s like, too.”

Buster could tell he’d struck a nerve, and that was the worst feeling. Aside from Arthur, Ladonna was his best friend in the whole entire world, and he would never want to hurt her. He had just been expressing his feelings honestly, as he and Ladonna always did with each other, and he’d unintentionally reminded her of the fact that her dad wasn’t as present in her life as she wanted him to be. But had he really, though? He knew that in his case, the fact that his dad wasn’t as present in his life as he wanted him to be was always there. It was always present in the back of his mind. He’d just learned to mostly keep it there, instead of letting it get to the forefront of his mind. Well, the forefront of his mind was where it was now, and he knew that was also where Ladonna’s father was in her mind right then.

“Hey,” Buster said firmly, opting to try to comfort her instead of trying to make himself feel better. “Your dad loves you. Alright? You told me he was there for your graduation, right? And he was there for your ninth birthday when you thought there was no way he would be, right?” His voice grew softer. “He loves you, I just know it.”

And…well. Buster’s dad loved him, too, didn’t he? Hadn’t he taken Buster with him on a long trip all over the place? Hadn’t he sent hot air balloons to the Father’s Day picnic when he couldn’t be there himself, just to make sure it was still a special day for Buster?

Buster felt tears welling up in his eyes at the thought, and he could hear Ladonna sniffling on the other end and knew she was just as touched.

“But, um” Buster said, wiping his eyes. “That’s not what I called about.”

“Why not?” Ladonna asked tearfully. “Maybe your dad _should_ know. Maybe you should tell your dad even before you tell your mom or Arthur.”

“I thought about it,” Buster admitted. “But, I mean, I think it’d be kind of awkward. We don’t see each other very much, so it could seem really out of the blue to have me call him up and be like, ‘Hey, dad! Guess what? I like boys!’”

Ladonna giggled. “C’mon, Buster. Even you have more tact than to do it like that,” she teased affectionately. “I know you could find the right words if you wanted to. And it might end up meaning a lot to him that you trust him enough to tell him. When we don’t get to see someone we love as much as we’d like to, sometimes, we’ve gotta find our own ways to let ‘em know we appreciate ‘em.”

“That’s true. I’ll have to think about how I wanna tell him, though.”

“And when you do, be sure to let me know. You can even practice on me if you wanna.”

“Of course I’ll let you know. I feel better now.”

“Good. So I’m allowed to go to bed now?”

Buster laughed. “You have my permission. Goodnight, Ladonna.”

“Goodnight, Buster.”

Buster decided he should probably go to bed now, too, so he started to get ready, their conversation still in his mind.

\---

Fern leaned against the doorway, watching her mother load the dishwasher. It was getting close to Fern’s bedtime, so if she wanted to do this tonight, she had to do it now. She didn’t exactly _want_ to do it, but she worried that if she didn’t, her friends would hound her about it again tomorrow.

“Um, mom?” she said quietly.

Her mom closed the dishwasher and turned to face her with a smile. “What is it, Fern?”

“You know how I’m in drama club, right?”

“Yes?”

“Well…for Halloween, we’re going to do a haunted house. And you know how much I love horror, right? Well, George, Sue Ellen and I all want to work on the haunted house together. But first, we thought we would go through one, so that we could get inspiration.”

“Of course, sweetie. Did you guys have one in mind?”

“Um, we haven’t talked about that yet. We all wanted to make sure our parents would say yes first.” She’d been hoping her mom would say no, but instead her mom had said yes immediately. Still, Fern could try. Maybe her mom thought she meant a kiddie haunted house, not a _real_ haunted house—the kind with blood and chainsaws and big scares. “But, um. We know we want to go to a really scary one.”

Her mom seemed to consider this, then nodded. “There’s still some time before haunted houses open for the season. The three of you have plenty of time to talk about which one you would like to go to. When the three of you decide, let me know.” She paused. “Although I wouldn’t feel comfortable about the three of you going through without an adult.”

“George’s dad already said he’d go with us,” Fern said hastily. That statement probably worked against her plan of trying to get her mom to say no. “But, mom, you really would be okay with letting me go through a really scary haunted house?”

Her mom shrugged. “I let you read Frankenstein when you were in third grade.” Well, that was true. “I figure you could handle it. And since you would have an adult with you, I say go for it. Have fun. Get inspiration.”

“Thanks, mom.” Her mom had so much confidence in her. Why didn’t she have that kind of confidence in herself? Why couldn’t _she_ believe she’d be able to handle it?

Fern went to her room and re-opened her diary to the page she’d been writing on before she went to talk to her mother.

_Well, now my mom knows about the haunted house idea. And she said yes! I didn’t think she would. This is a disaster. My parents actually saying no is out of the question now, so my choices are either lie to my friends and tell them my parents said no, or go through the haunt, or tell the truth. Maybe I should’ve told the truth from the start. But my friends seemed so excited about the idea, and they had a point about getting inspiration. Maybe some haunted houses give lights on tours with no monsters. Maybe then, I could still go through one and get inspiration, but I wouldn’t get scared. Or maybe I could go through a kiddie haunted house first to warm me up. I don’t know, but I better at least think of something by tomorrow, in case George and Sue Ellen ask again._

Fern sat back and reread what she had written, exhaling as she weighed her options. Best case scenario? Everyone would just forget about it and nobody would push her any further. But what were the chances of that happening?

\---

Before he went to bed, Buster sneakily connected to the internet again. He opened the rough draft of the email for Ladonna that he’d saved and began to reread it.

_Dear Ladonna,_

_I am so scared._

Buster didn’t even need to read the rest of it before he hit “delete draft.” He exhaled and disconnected, grateful that he didn’t send that email. As he settled into bed, he had a feeling sleep would come easy to him that night.


	13. Chapter 13

Buster slunk into the seat across from Brain at the cafeteria. “Hey, Brain,” he greeted. “Are you going to the dance?”

Brain froze, staring at Buster. He shook off his surprise, then shook his head. “No. Are you asking me?”

Buster swallowed hard, but managed to hide his reaction. Brain didn’t even seem to be asking jokingly. That meant he seemed to think there was at least some possibility that Buster was asking him. Could it be that Brain had him figured out? He sure was smart enough.

“No, silly,” Buster said, brushing off the idea. “And I’m not going, either.”

“You’re not?”

“No, and neither is Arthur.”

“But…why?” Brain had been sure he was the only one in the whole school who didn’t want to go.

“We’ve got something else planned. Something we need you to be a part of.”

Now, Brain was intrigued. “What is it?”

“It’s a surprise. But trust me when I say you’ll like it more than you would’ve liked the dance.”

Brain did not, in fact, trust him. Still, he was open to the idea. After all, he wouldn’t have anything better to do, since he’d already decided he wasn’t going to the dance. “Sure. Remind me again when we get closer to the dance.”

Closer to the dance. But the dance was only a week away.

And a week was _not_ long enough for Muffy to settle on her dress, shoes, accessories, and hairstyle for the dance. Really, she should have started planning the day she found out when the dance would be. And normally, she would have. In fact, that had been her plan. Her plan had been that as soon as she’d been given permission to buy a new dress for the dance, she would start trying to find the right look.

The problem was, she’d been so pre-occupied by the old feminism books and magazines her mother had given her that she’d entirely forgotten to look for a new dress. And now, she had only one week to go, and she still wasn’t done with all the literature her mother had given her. Truthfully, she didn’t want to get through it all. Because once she got through it all, she would have to find more stuff about feminism all by herself. Or maybe she could ask her mother for places to start, but she would rather start on her own path toward becoming an independent woman. It made her sick to think about how just a short time ago, the thing she was worried about most was getting a new dress for her upcoming school dance, when there were millions of girls around the world who couldn’t even go to school or afford a new dress. If she could buy a new dress for each and every single one of them, she would.

With that realization, she set down the magazine she’d been reading and slunk into the library, where her mother was reading. Muffy squinted and read the title of the book her mother was reading. The Picture of Dorian Gray. Still not done with it, obviously.

“Mommy?”

Her mom put her book down and looked at her daughter. “What is it?”

“Mommy, I’m so sorry about the way I acted when I asked for a new dress for the dance. I was being…uneducated. The dress I wore to the opera will be fine for my school dance.”

“Are you sure? It seemed pretty important to you.”

“I’m positive.”

“What brought about this change of heart?”

Muffy shrugged. “Are there any charities that give clothes to girls who can’t afford them?”

Muffy’s mother sat up a little straighter. “Why, yes,” she answered, sounding touched. 

“Can you take the money that would have gone to my new dress and give it to them instead?”

“Of course I can, dear.” She held her arms open and Muffy walked over to accept the offered hug. “We can even look into it together to see if there’s a particular one you’d like the money to go to.”

Muffy smiled at her mother. “I’d like that.”

\---

George padded to the phone, not appreciating his homework being interrupted. But his mom was still at work and his dad was in the workshop, so that left George as the official phone answerer.

“Lundgren residence.”

“Hi, George?”

It was Shelley. Right. George still hadn’t made good on his promise to run lines. He brought his hand to his forehead. “Yeah. Hi, Shelley.”

“Hi. So, I was wondering. That recorder you used to play in elementary school. You don’t still have it, do you?”

“Um…no? I haven’t played recorder since fourth grade.”

“Oh, okay. I was just wondering.”

“Why?”

“I’m helping to organize a silent auction for the Halloween event. Any money we raise will go toward getting a playground built at school.”

George perked up at that. “Really? Cool. Well, um, I don’t have any instruments I can offer, but maybe I could ask my dad to make something.”

“Really? That would be awesome!”

“It’s no problem. It’s just, I can’t now, because he doesn’t like to be interrupted when he’s working.”

“I understand. Let me know.”

“I will. And, um. I’m sorry if it seems like I forgot about running lines with you. I promise I didn’t.”

“No problem. We can talk about that later, too.”

George exhaled his relief. Fortunately, it wasn’t quite loud enough for Shelley to hear. “Thanks. If there’s nothing else…?”

“Oh, no! You’ve given me a lot. Thanks.”

“I’ll see you at school.”

“Bye, George.”

George hung up and went to his desk. Instead of returning to the math homework he’d been working on before Shelley called, he took his copy of the script for Guys and Dolls out of his backpack. He’d learned his lines mostly from watching the movie and listening to the audio tracks Ms. Everett played each class period. He knew all his own lines; he just wasn’t confident in his ability to help someone else with _their_ lines. After all, George kind of just…performatively held the script during rehearsals. Truth be told, he had never actually read the script from start to finish. 

\---

“So?” Sue Ellen looked at Fern expectantly.

“So?” Fern echoed, looking doe-eyed at her friend. As usual, both of them had beaten George to first period.

“So, do you know yet if you can go?”

“Go? Go where?” Truthfully, Fern had been able to put this off for longer than she’d thought she would be able to, but it seemed like Sue Ellen wasn’t going to resent.

Sue Ellen rolled her eyes. “Go to a haunted house,” she said, confirming Fern’s fears.

“Oh, that.” Fern scratched the back of her head. “They said yes.” Wait, that wasn’t what she was supposed to say. She had rehearsed this conversation plenty of times in her room. She was supposed to say that no matter how she begged, her parents kept saying no. But of course, when the moment actually came, she couldn’t do it. She really was more of a writer than an actor. That was how she ended up in the chorus of Guys and Dolls instead of a speaking or solo singing role. It wasn’t a lack of singing skill: it was a lack of acting skill.

“That’s great!” Sue Ellen replied.

Fern laughed nervously. “I know,” she said, once again following the wrong script.

Sue Ellen glanced around the classroom, though it seemed entirely performative. “Where’s George?” she asked, practically bouncing in her seat. “He’s never here at the same time we are.”

“We’re still early,” Fern pointed out. “And George is always on time, even if he isn’t as early as us.”

“True,” Sue Ellen conceded. “But why couldn’t he be here earlier than normal today?”

“He probably would have been if he’d known you wanted him to be.”

Sue Ellen rolled her eyes again, pulling a newspaper clipping from her pocket. She uncrumpled it and set it on Fern’s desk. “Look. This is what I think we should do.”

Fern read the newspaper clipping. It was an ad for…an attraction called Scream Park. Scream Park had not just one, but _three_ haunted houses (in addition to carnival games, food, and drinks, but that wasn’t the part that terrified Fern). There was a kid-friendly haunt, a traditional scary haunt, and a so-called “extreme haunt.” Those were the exact words used in the ad: extreme haunt.

“I wonder what makes that haunt extreme,” Fern said with a laugh, hoping it would disguise her nervousness.

“I don’t know, but I’m hoping to find out.” From Sue Ellen’s excited tone of voice, Fern could tell she meant it. That made her even more nervous. Now, Fern knew that if they went to Scream Park, Sue Ellen would want to go through the “extreme haunt” even if Fern and George didn’t want to. At least George’s dad would be going with them. If he said no to the extreme haunt, they wouldn’t be able to through it no matter how badly Sue Ellen wanted to. Fern wasn’t even sure she would be willing to go through the traditional haunted house, although if she went through the kid-friendly haunted house first, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Actually, now she was warming up to the idea of going through a traditional haunted house, as long as she got to go through a kid-friendly haunted house first as a warm-up. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“I think that now that we all know we can go, we should talk to George’s dad, since he’s the one who’s going to be taking us,” Fern suggested. “But it might be a good idea to tell George, first,” she said, her eyes lowering to the Scream Park ad that was still on her desk.

“Oh, right,” Sue Ellen said, pocketing the ad. “Good call.”

The girls were quiet until George got there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The school dance is coming up next chapter, and it's the longest chapter yet!


	14. Chapter 14

It was the day of the dance. “Day,” and not “night,” because unlike high school dances, dances at the middle school were held shortly after school ended. Their dances were over around the time high schoolers would just be leaving to go to their dances. But, hey. It was still a school dance. A rite of passage.

A rite of passage that Brain, Arthur, and Buster would be missing. As promised, Buster reminded Brain closer to the dance. In fact, he reminded him at lunch the day of the dance. He didn’t trust Brain to remember anything related to the dance (even if it was a reminder not to go) for any more than half a day. “Meet us by the back doors after school,” Buster had told him. The back doors were right by the Tech classroom. That was the real clue that gave it away to Brain that they really might be planning something that he would actually enjoy more than the dance. He just wasn’t sure what it might be. So after the last bell, Brain walked to the back doors to wait for Arthur and Buster.

Meanwhile, Muffy went home after the last bell. Yes, she was going to wear a dress she’d worn before, but she still cared about how she looked, and the dress she was wearing to the dance did _not_ travel well. If she had brought it to school with her and kept it in her locker, it would have wrinkled. It was better to show up a little late to the dance and show up looking stunning and wrinkle-free than it would be to be at the dance from the beginning, but in a wrinkly dress. She wanted to make the right kind of impression, not the wrong kind.

Bailey knew how important this was to her, so he arrived early and left the engine running, knowing Muffy would run out to the car as soon as she could. He got them home quickly, and Muffy ran to her room, where Bailey had her dress hanging out for her alongside the shoes and accessories she’d chosen. Muffy had gone over her entire ensemble with him beforehand so he would know exactly what to have ready. The end ensemble was all white. Nothing made a bigger impression than all white. White meant fearlessness. White garments were always a risk: they could be ruined forever instantly with a single spill, whereas black garments were always safe no matter what got spilled on them. It took real guts to wear white. It said, “I am not afraid.”

That was exactly the kind of impression Mary Alice Crosswire wanted to make on this school. Now that she thought about it, if she _hadn’t_ read her mom’s literature on feminism, and _had_ decided to buy a new dress, she probably would have gone with something black. But now, instead, not only was she wearing a white dress for the _second_ time, but she was able to donate to an organization she felt really good about and help other girls get new clothing.

The white dress itself wasn’t even that remarkable apart from being white. Really, it was just a plain white dress, with a little volume added to the skirt with tulle. No embellishments of any kind. But her clutch bag was white and beaded with a gorgeous, vintage looking floral pattern. And her shoes! Her shoes were white Mary Janes with a similar beaded pattern. Something Muffy had already learned when it came to fashion at her young age: either let your clothes talk, or let your accessories talk. If both the clothes and the accessories were too loud, nobody would be able to hear anything over all the noise. She also opted for simple hair, although she couldn’t resist a thin, bedazzled headband to hold it back. Whatever, though. That also fell into the accessories category, so she wasn’t too worried about it drawing all the attention.

Muffy’s parents gasped when they saw her. “Oh, Muffy,” her mother breathed. 

Ed handed Bailey a camera. “Here, take a picture of us,” he said, moving to stand next to his daughter. “I want to always remember my little girl’s first school dance.”

“You always will, Sir,” Bailey replied, but he snapped the pic anyway. Bailey took several more pictures (a few of Muffy by herself, one of her with her mom, and one of her with both parents) before he and Muffy headed out.

“Thank God,” Muffy muttered as she sat down in the car and straightened the skirt of her dress. “I thought they were going to make me even later.”

“I know how important this is to you, Miss Muffy,” Bailey said, checking the rearview mirror to make sure Muffy had buckled her seatbelt before he began to drive. “I wouldn’t have let them keep you.”

“I’m already late as it is.” Although, of course, that had been her choice. She looked out the window and fumbled with her dress as Bailey drove her back to school. Muffy wouldn’t admit it out loud, but she was nervous about this dance.

\---

At first, Brain wasn’t sure if Arthur and Buster would show. He knew they were his friends and wouldn’t play a cruel prank on him but maybe they forgot? Fortunately, his fears were unfounded, because they turned up after all.

“Hi, Brain,” Buster greeted pleasantly as he and Arthur approached. “Sorry we’re a little bit late. We had to stop at our lockers and get some things.”

Brain raised his eyebrows. “Get some things? For what?”

Arthur smiled as he knocked on the door to the Tech room. “Now, that would spoil the surprise, wouldn’t it?”

Brain was already surprised. He’d been standing by the Tech room all this time, assuming it was unoccupied, and now, Arthur was knocking on the door. That meant someone was in there. Sure enough, a moment later, the Tech teacher, Mr. Carr, opened the door.

“Hello, Mr. Carr,” Arthur said.

“Hello, Arthur. Buster. Alan.” He looked at each of the three of them, then opened the door even farther so they all could come in.

Brain followed Arthur and Buster into the classroom with a bit of a nervous laugh. “Guys? What’s going on?”

Mr. Carr was the one who answered. “Your friends said they wanted to help you with a project for Science Olympiad.”

Brain blinked. “Science Olympiad? But that isn’t until next semester. And neither of you is even _in_ Tech club!”

Buster looked slyly at Arthur and winked. “So, if it isn’t until next semester, but we start working now, that’ll give us a lot of time to make it perfect, right?”

Mr. Carr smiled, as well. “It’s been a while since this school has made any waves there. Would you like to help us change that?”

“Well…I mean, of course.” He looked at Arthur and Buster again. “But again: why do you two care? You’re not in Tech club.”

“No,” Arthur answered sheepishly, “but you’re our friend, and this is important to you. So it’s important to us.”

“Right!” Buster said. “So anything you need help with, let us know!”

“And,” Mr. Carr added, almost as an aside, “make sure you let me know what categories you’d like to be entered in by the deadline.”

Brain smiled. “Of course! I’ve got a lot of ideas.”

“So do we!” Buster replied. That surprised Brain, but he was willing to at least hear the ideas, even if he didn’t expect them to be any good.

As if reading Brain’s mind, Mr. Carr said, “I’ve seen all their ideas. Some of them aren’t plausible, but some are really good. I’ll let you decide.”

Brain’s smile widened then, now that he knew Mr. Carr had enough faith in him to trust his judgement.

\---

Muffy took a deep breath and exhaled loudly as Bailey pulled to a stop in front of the school. This was it. What she’d been waiting for. But now that it was here, she wasn’t quite ready to get out of the car yet. She unbuckled her seatbelt, but didn’t move otherwise.

“Miss Muffy?” Bailey inquired, looking at her in the rearview window.

Muffy looked up at him. “Yes?” she asked, panicked.

“Is everything alright?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said with a wave of her hand. “It’s fine.” Her fake smile dropped. “Except…I’m a little bit nervous.”

“I understand.”

“You do?”

Bailey nodded. “Certainly. Oftentimes, when we’re about to have a new experience, we’ll feel both excited _and_ nervous. Don’t you remember how nervous you were before you went to the opera for them first time?”

Well, yes, but she had been nervous because she was afraid she’d fall asleep. But that was beside the point. “So, how do you get over those nerves?”

“You don’t.” Well, that was encouraging. “But you do ask yourself if not feeling nervous anymore is worth missing out on the experience.” He looked at her over his shoulder at her and asked, almost nonchalantly, “Is it, Miss Muffy?”

Muffy got a determined look on her face then. “Heck, no. I’m going to this dance.”

"That's the spirit. You can tell me how smashingly it went when I pick you up. In the meantime, though, you really must get going."

“Of course!” She opened the car door, but still hesitated. “Hey, Bailey?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks.” She got out of the car then, shutting the door behind her.

Muffy held onto her clutch a little tighter than necessary as she walked up to the doors of her school. She knew that inside, she would find her friends. But more than that: she would find a new experience, just like Bailey had said. She opened the door and walked inside.

\---

Shelley wasn’t having any fun at the dance. He hadn’t listened to his friends when they told him it wasn’t a _real_ school dance, and none of them were going. He hadn’t cared what they said. It was still his first school dance! And as someone who loved to dance, he couldn’t pass it up. Oh, sure, maybe he’d realize afterward that his friends were right, but he’d rather be proven wrong than not try at all. 

So far, he was kind of agreeing with them. This wasn’t anything like West Side Story. He knew Francine could dance, so he’d asked her if she wanted to dance with him, but she had said no thank you. He also knew George could dance, but he would _never_ ask George to dance with him.

Most of the kids weren’t even dressed up at all. Most of them were just wearing what they had worn to school. Shelley was among them, but at least he was wearing a button-down shirt and slacks instead of a t-shirt and jeans.

So, it made an even bigger impression than intended when Mary Alice Crosswire walked into the gym with her all white semi-formal ensemble.

A lot of kids stopped and stared. Francine made her way through the throng of kids to her best friend. “There you are! I was wondering when you would get here.” She looked back over her shoulder at the dance floor. “I couldn’t find Arthur, Buster, or Brain, so I danced with George for a couple of songs before we split up. I’ve been by myself ever since!”

Muffy looked away. “I’m sorry. I wanted to make sure I’d look nice.” She glanced around the dancefloor. “It seems like it all went to waste, though.” Referring to the fact that it seemed nobody else had put much effort into their appearances. Not even Francine, although Muffy had come to expect that. She had seen Francine in that exact dress probably about six times. Not that she was counting.

“What are you talking about?”

Francine and Muffy both turned toward the other voice. Neither of them had noticed anyone else was tuning into their conversation.

The voice belonged to Shelley. “You look…angelic,” he said, looking upward as if toward heaven itself. He looked back down to Muffy. “Nobody is going to forget this. Trust me.”

Muffy smiled sheepishly (something Francine had never thought possible). “In a good way?”

“In a good way,” he confirmed, holding out his hand to her. “Come on, girl. Let’s go dance.”

Muffy had barely arrived at her first ever school dance, and already a boy was asking her to dance. This had _definitely_ been the right choice. She practically beamed as she took his offered hand. “Okay!”

Francine wanted to say something, but couldn’t quite get it out in time to keep Muffy from going with Shelley. Instead, she stayed at the entrance to the gym as she felt eyes leave her and follow Muffy and Shelley. She couldn’t even fault them; Shelley had been right. Muffy _did_ look angelic. She was the only person at the dance wearing all white. She stood out in the best way possible. From where she was standing, Francine couldn’t possibly miss her. She watched as Muffy began dancing with Shelley, keeping a good few feet between them. At least they weren’t slow dancing. If they were doing that, rumors would fly instantly.

Francine left the gym and walked over to the payphone in the hall. She dialed collect to her sister’s phone. Catherine had spent her first month after graduation saving up for it, and now, Francine was grateful. She felt less uncomfortable calling her sister to come pick her up early from her first dance than she would feel asking either of her parents to pick her up early from her first dance. “Hello, Catherine? Can you come and get me?” 

Once she’d secured her ride, she went out front and sat on the curb, waiting for her sister to come get her. She’d hoped that once Muffy got here, she would have a friend to spend the rest of the dance with, but now it seemed Muffy was more interested in getting attention than anything.

After they danced for a song, Shelley kissed Muffy’s hand and stepped away. “Thank you, ma’am. I hope to do this again sometime.”

Muffy giggled. “Are you sure you haven’t seen me in this dress before? I know you go to the opera, and I’ve worn it to the opera before,” she admitted.

“Trust me: if I’d seen you in that dress, I would’ve remembered.”

Muffy giggled again. “I’ve got to go find Francine. We were talking when you came along.”

“Okay. Well.” Shelley bowed.

Muffy curtsied in turn and went to look for Francine.

\---

“There you are,” Francine said as she stood from the curb she’d been sitting on. It had been less than ten minutes since she’d called her sister.

“I came as soon as you called,” Catherine called defensively through her open car window. Her younger sister didn’t say anything as she got into the car and buckled her seatbelt. “What had you in such a hurry to leave, anyway? I mean, this is your first school dance ever.”

“I know,” Francine said as Catherine began to drive. She sighed, then conceded. “It was Muffy.”

“Isn’t it always?”

Francine met Catherine’s eyes through the rearview mirror. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Catherine shrugged. “It just seems like a lot of your problems have to do with Muffy. That’s all.”

Francine slunk into her seat. “Well, you’re not wrong. She showed up wearing this amazing all white outfit, and I had spent a lot of time by myself at the dance and had been looking forward to her getting there so I would have a friend, and almost as soon as she got there, a boy asked her to dance, and she went with him without even seeing if I was okay with it.”

“Hmm.”

“What do you mean, ‘hmm’?”

Catherine shrugged. “Just. Hmm.”

Neither of them pushed the other, and they fell into an uncomfortable silence.

\---

Mr. Carr held back laughter as he listened to Arthur, Brain, and Buster work. Well, work wasn’t the right word at the moment. The three were arguing about the design of the car Brain wanted to use to enter the egg car challenge. “If we really wanna stand a chance, we should probably enlist George and his dad,” Buster suggested.

Brain audibly gasped. “We can and will do this without George, thank you very much.”

“Besides,” Mr. Carr stepped in, “George is already entering in other categories.”

Brain’s mouth fell open. “George already told you what categories he wants to enter in?” He looked at Arthur and Buster. “We’re going to have to work faster than I thought, boys.”

Mr. Carr held up his hand. “In the meantime, though, why don’t you guys slow down?”

The three of them blinked at him.

“You heard me. Slow down. If you’re missing your first ever school dance to work on this, you might as well at least have some fun. That’s why I ordered pizza.”

“You ordered us pizza?” Arthur asked. That hadn’t been part of the plan. 

Mr. Carr nodded. “And pop. About half an hour ago, so it shouldn’t be too much longer.”

Buster, Brain, and Arthur turned back to each other with grins.

“You were right,” Brain said gratefully. “I do like this better than I would’ve liked the dance.” And better than he would have liked sitting at home by himself, which was what he would have been doing without these plans, since he’d decided from the beginning that he wasn’t going to the dance. He knew Arthur and Buster knew he wouldn’t care about some dance, and had come up with these plans so he wouldn’t feel left out or alone. They really were true friends. “But let’s get back to the designs,” he said, drawing a big X through Buster’s idea.

“Hey!” Buster exclaimed. “What’s wrong with my idea?”

“We can’t send an egg down the ramp in a car that looks like a pizza, Buster!”

“Well, why not?”

Mr. Carr quietly stepped out into the hallway to await the pizza, letting them squabble things out on their own.

\---

Muffy frowned as she walked back toward Shelley. He was all alone again, just like her. When Shelley spotted her, they both put on fake smiles as they closed the distance between them. 

“Hey!” Shelley greeted. “I thought you were going to find Francine.”

“That’s why I came back,” Muffy said, letting her smile fall. “I was hoping _you’d_ seen her. I couldn’t find her.”

“Huh. Did you try the bathroom?”

Muffy rolled her eyes. “Of course I did.”

“Of course you did,” Shelley said apologetically, “you’re right.” He hesitated, not sure if he wanted to suggest what he was about to. “You don’t suppose she’d just…leave? Without telling you? Do you?”

Muffy glared at him. “No, of course not. She’d at least let me know that she was going.”

“You’re right, silly question. Well how about this: who cares where Francine is?”

“What?”

Shelley shrugged. “Who cares? I mean, here you are, all dolled up like this, and you’re worrying about Francine instead of having a good time? Just in case Francine doesn’t come back, let’s have a really good time and let her know what she missed. Huh?”

Muffy grinned. “You know what? I think you’re right, Shelley Barnes. Let’s show her what a really fun time looks like.”

Muffy had to admit she wasn’t much of a dancer—at least, not when compared to Shelley or (ugh) Francine. But if a song she really loved was playing, she didn’t really care. She went all out. And the song that came on next couldn’t have been more perfect. It was Muffy’s favorite.

It was The Backstreet Boys.

With a squeal, Muffy grabbed Shelley’s hand and led him to an emptier part of the floor. The two had already danced together not that long ago, so their moves and rhythms were still in each other’s heads. It didn’t take long for others to clear out around them to give them space. They didn’t notice. They were too caught up in the dance, in the song.

When the song ended, they stopped dancing, panting, to…applause? Yes. People were clapping all around them. They looked around them with smiles, then smiled at each other. Shelley held his hand out to Muffy, which she graciously accepted, and the two of them bowed together.

With a touch of guilt, Muffy thought, _If this doesn’t leave an impression on Francine, nothing will_.

\---

Much like Francine, George wasn’t having much fun at the dance. He’d enjoyed dancing with Francine and wouldn’t have minded doing it again, but as soon as Muffy arrived, Francine vanished and George hadn’t seen her since. Fern and Sue Ellen weren’t there. They were busy rehearsing their songs in Guys and Dolls together. _I should’ve asked Shelley if he wanted to finally run lines tonight_. The thought crossed his mind absently before going on its way. Shelley would have turned him down for the exact same reason that he never would have asked in the first place. They both wanted to be here. Both of them loved dancing, and neither of them would’ve missed their first school dance for the world.

If only George wasn’t too nervous to ask any girls besides Francine to dance.

Shelley, on the other hand, had danced with Muffy so fervently that the two had drawn a small crowd and applause. Once the applause died down, the small crowd dispersed. George noticed that the two lingered near each other afterward, but it must have been at least in part because neither of them had anyone else to go to, because they seemed a little more awkward now that they weren’t dancing. Of course, that could have also been because of unexpected attention, but how could they not have expected attention, dancing like that? George had caught the performance once the small crowd had started to gather, after all. They were good. They were _really_ good. He never thought he’d see the day that Shelley and Muffy would dance together and dance _good_. Now that they were done dancing, though, and he was sensing that their lingering closeness to each other was arbitrary? George saw an opportunity to step in. 

“Hey, guys,” he said, a little more enthusiastically than he’d meant to sound. “Great dancing!”

Neither of them would have normally been his first choice of a person to hang out with at a school dance, but with his other friends absent, his only other choices were either to mingle or keep spending time by himself. Being alone surrounded by people was no fun, and he didn’t had the guts to mingle.

“Hey!” Shelley said with a smile. “Thanks!”

Muffy curtsied with a smile.

“And Muffy,” George added. “You look great. I didn’t know we could dress up, or I would have.”

Muffy rolled her eyes. “Well, it _is_ a dance.”

“Yeah,” Shelley pitched in. “Haven’t you ever seen West Side Story?”

Now, it was Shelley’s turn to get glared at by Muffy. “Shelley, this isn’t anything like West Side Story.”

Shelley frowned. “I know. It’s _tragic_ , isn’t it?”

“So, um, Muffy,” George pressed on, trying to ignore their rapport. Since when were these two best friends? Had he missed something? “Would you like to dance?”

Muffy didn’t seem enthusiastic. “Oh, I don’t know. If another Backstreet Boy song comes on, I will.”

Shelley leaned in toward George and whispered, “She dances better when she’s dancing to songs she really likes.”

“I heard that,” Muffy said, but she didn’t deny it. George’s mouth formed a little _Oh_.

“Come on,” Shelley said, waving George away from her. “We’re better off just hanging out until another song she loves comes on.”

With an uncertain glance at Muffy, George followed Shelley. Muffy went to get a cup of punch, but not without being accosted by other boys wanting to dance with her.

“’We will now hear testimony from…’” Shelley drawled out. “’Brother Nicely-Nicely Johnson.’”

“Huh?” By the time he finished uttering the syllable, George realized Shelley had fed him the cue to his only solo song in the play. He went right along—at least at first. “’Well, uh. It all happened to be kinda funny,’” he said in his Nicely-Nicely New York voice. “’Like a dream. A dream!’” He dropped the accent and looked at Shelley sincerely. “You know, that wasn’t even your line.”

Shelley shrugged. “I know.”

“I thought you needed help with your lines.”

“That’s not why I asked you to run lines with me.”

“Why did you, then?”

“I thought maybe you needed help with yours.”

“Me? But I’ve been doing my lines just fine in class.”

“And I don’t care how you learned your lines, but I know it wasn’t from reading your script. I think the other kids have also noticed that you just hold your script and never look at it in class.”

George’s brows furrowed. “So, I’m dyslexic. That’s it? That’s the entire reason you wanted to run lines with me?”

Shelley groaned. “Come, on, George, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it? Because it sounds to me like you don’t trust me to get my lines right because I’m dyslexic.”

George and Shelley had been practically shouting so they could hear each other over the music, but the song ended just in time for George to shout “because I’m dyslexic” loud enough for everyone around them to hear. The auditorium went unnaturally silent for a second before the next song began. Steal My Sunshine by Len. Great. Perfect for the occasion.

Muffy could hear the conversation, and she could sense a conflict brewing. That was _not_ what anybody needed to remember about this dance. She set her cup down and power walked over to them. “Come on, George,” she said, grabbing his hand with both of hers. “I’m taking you up on that offer to dance.”

“But this isn’t The Backstreet Boys,” he said as he allowed himself to be dragged away.

Shelley glanced around before his eyes settled on Jenna. She sat by herself on the bleachers. Shelley had had a feeling about Jenna since she first showed up at drama club. In a way, that was the first time he’d ever really noticed her. It was the first time he ever really saw her potential. With a smile, he walked up to her. “Wanna dance?”

Jenna looked up at him as if unsure whether he was talking to her. “Um,” she said, then a smile spread across her own face. “Yes.” She stood and joined him on the dancefloor.

\---

“Francine!” Catherine called from the living room. The two had stopped at the ice cream shop on their way home to get Francine a little something to cheer her up, and when Francine had holed herself up in their room when they got home, Catherine told their parents not to bother her. Their parents had taken it one step further and gone out to dinner together, leaving the apartment to their daughters for the next couple hours. Francine had made the right choice, calling Catherine to come get her. But now, Catherine was calling her.

“What is it?” Francine called back from their room.

“Muffy’s on the phone!”

Francine covered her face with her hands. She opened the door and walked out into the living room. “I really don’t wanna talk to her,” she said quietly.

“I know,” Catherine replied just as quietly, covering the receiver of the phone with her hand. “But it might be a good idea to, anyway. You don’t wanna be mad about this till Monday, do you?”

Francine sighed. “No.” She held out her hand and Catherine placed the phone in it. Francine held the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

Catherine retreated to their room to give Francine the illusion of privacy while leaving the door open so she could listen in.

“Did you leave early?” Muffy started in. Not even a hello. Setting the tone for the conversation.

“Yes. You went off to dance with Shelley right after I told you I was all alone and had been waiting for you.”

“And as soon as the song was over, I went back to look for you. I was disappointed not to find you.”

Francine quirked a brow, not that Muffy could see it. “Did you check outside?”

Francine practically heard Muffy fold in on herself as she said, “No. I looked everywhere else, though. I just didn’t think you’d leave without telling me you were going.”

“And I didn’t think you’d abandon me to dance with a boy.”

“I told you, I went back to look for you as soon as the song was over. Did you want me to ask you first?”

“It might have been nice.”

Something changed in Muffy’s voice. Ever since Francine had asked if Muffy checked outside, Muffy had sounded defeated, hurt, small—something Francine rarely heard from her. But now, her voice was strong and firm. “You don’t own me, Francine Frensky. I’m allowed to dance if I want and I don’t have to ask you.”

Francine’s eyes went wide, then she blinked. She honestly didn’t have any response to that. “Well—” She said the first thing that came to her mind. “If you’re allowed to dance without asking me, I’m allowed to leave without asking you!” With that, she hung up. She instantly regretted it. She realized that the reason she hung up was because she knew that if this conversation went on, she would lose.


	15. Chapter 15

Arthur could tell something was wrong. When he came back to school Monday after missing the dance Friday (a decision he was grateful he made) he could tell.

For starters, Muffy and Francine weren’t sitting together at lunch.

Buster looked between Francine (who was sitting by herself) and Muffy (who was sitting at a table surrounded by people) and back at Arthur. “Am I the only one who feels like I’ve missed something?”

Arthur sighed. “No, you aren’t, Buster.”

“I mean, why aren’t Francine and Muffy sitting together? They always sit together.”

“Unless they’ve just had an unresolved fight,” Brain pointed out as he sat with Arthur and Buster. He’d known Francine and Muffy long enough to know how they worked. “I suspect it has something to do with the dance we missed.”

Buster’s mouth formed a soundless _oh_. “Well, I still don’t regret it.”

“Neither do I,” Arthur agreed. He remembered the pizza and pop Mr. Carr ordered without any of them asking or paying, and he remembered coming up with a great Science Olympiad plan with Buster and Brain. How could he regret any of that?

“I just wonder what happened,” Buster said, and began to eat his lunch.

Arthur glanced at Muffy, who was chatting up her table, then at Francine by herself. He wondered the same, but unlike Buster, he didn’t voice his curiosity before starting in on his lunch. As he started eating his lunch, the kids who had terrorized him and his friends in elementary school caught his eye.

“Why didn’t you let us know you were planning to be the star of the dance?” Rattles asked Shelley as they sat down with Molly and Slink.

“Because I wasn’t _planning_ to,” Shelley answered with a shrug. “It kind of just happened.”

“Well, whatever it was, it was real good,” Rattles said. “Or, at least…so’s I heard.” He looked to Molly and Slink for support. They nodded. Great. Shelley could see it now: the three would want him to replicate the success of the dance and be disappointed when he couldn’t deliver. This wasn’t something that could be planned…

“That’s why we want you to teach us how,” Rattles said, humbly. “We know that took a lot outta ya, Shells. That’s why we wanna take some of the burden offa ya. Let us learn.”

Shelley blinked. In all the minutes he’d danced with Muffy and Jenna, the Tough Customers had never once crossed his mind. Neither had their cause, which made him feel guilty in retrospect. But not guilty enough to lie or “teach” them things that wouldn’t matter in the long run. In the long run, it wouldn’t matter if any of them could dance. They were selling musical instruments and chocolates. Those were the things that were going to earn them a playground. Not silly dance moves.

Shelley looked helplessly at his friends, unsure if he could make them see things the way he did. “Guys, I just—"

“You just what?” Molly asked.

Shelley looked at the three of them, who all seemed to expect an answer. He didn’t seem to be getting out of this. “I just—” He shrugged. “I just acted.”

“Whenever I ‘just act’ my teachers and parents say I’m wrong,” Slink said, almost as soon as Shelley was done talking. He made air quotes when he said ‘just act’ to emphasize his point.

“That’s because you are, Slink,” Rattles replied, not pulling any punches.

“Hey, screw you. I’ve got a paper route I’m in charge of. What have you got? Sadness?”

“Hey, guys,” Molly said, physically pushing them apart, as if she thought they were actually about to start something and not just pushing each other’s buttons.

Shelley didn’t care. He wasn’t paying attention. He was too busy thinking about how big of a difference they were going to make on this school. Like. Playground equipment? That would be around _long_ after they graduated. This wasn’t about them. This was about securing a future for kids who went to this school _after_ them. Making sure those kids would have a playground. That was what he was trying to do: leave a lasting impression. Surely, his friends agreed?

Francine sighed and picked up her lunch tray. She hadn’t even lived through one lunch sitting by herself, and she was already over it. So she went to where Brain sat. Brain, who was her biggest sports ally in elementary school, but couldn’t be in middle school, because now the sports were segregated by sex. Brain, who was apparently more friendly with Arthur and Buster than he was with her. What exactly _had_ she missed? After all, none of those three had been at the dance—at least, not while she was there. For all she knew, they did show up later. She left fairly early, she had to admit.

Brain, Arthur, and Buster all seemed surprised when Francine sat with them.

“Hey,” Brain said awkwardly.

“Hey,” Francine replied, dispiritedly.

They were all quiet a minute while they ate. Then, Buster had to open his big trap. “So, what’s going on with you and Muffy?”

Arthur audibly groaned.

“We were supposed to hang out at the dance,” she began. “But then she was late, and when she finally _did_ show up, she abandoned me at practically the drop of a hat to dance with a boy.”

“Was this boy named Shelley?” Buster asked nonchalantly, and took a bite out of his sandwich.

“Yeah,” Francine answered, sounding surprised that he knew.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Arthur said, speaking for his best friend (who still had his mouth full). “All of us have heard about Shelley and Muffy by now.”

Francine winced. “Really?” She gained some fortitude then. “Well, that doesn’t exactly mean anything. What were you three doing during the dance, hmm?”

“We were working on our projects for Science Olympiad,” Brain replied.

Obviously, from the look Arthur and Buster exchanged, they hadn’t expected Brain to be so blunt to anyone who asked about why they missed the dance. Then again, they hadn’t exactly expected Francine to ask. Especially when she missed out on most of the dance herself.

Francine rolled her eyes. “ _That’s_ why you guys missed the dance? You know, there kind of are rumors.”

The look they exchanged then said that they hadn’t considered that, either. “What kind of rumors?” Arthur asked.

“Like that you couldn’t dance. Or you couldn’t get a girl to dance with you even if you tried.”

“Of course we could,” Buster defended.

“Not according to the rumors,” Francine pointed out.

Brain, Buster, and Arthur exchanged looks. Brain wasn’t surprised. He’d never wanted to attend the dance in the first place, so the rumors about him were true. But he was concerned about how the rumors would affect Arthur and Buster. Arthur and Buster, who had put their social lives on the line for him.

Brain looked uncomfortably at Francine. “You know…there’s one way we could put those rumors to an end. Right now.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asked. “And how is that?”

“Well…if all three of us danced with you right now, it would prove that none of use is afraid to dance with a girl.”

“Oh.” Francine hadn’t thought of that. Suddenly, she regretted sitting with them. Why hadn’t she been content to sit by herself?

She knew why. It was for similar reasons that these three boys currently felt like outcasts.

Buster looked at her expectantly, as if he thought she was actually going to invite the three of them to dance. When she didn’t, he looked back at his lunch, disappointed.

\---

“So, what’s going on with you and Muffy?” Rattles asked.

“Yeah,” Molly said, grabbing Shelley’s arm. “Spill the beans! You’ve never talked to any of us about having a crush before!”

“Yeah,” Slink joined in. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a crush? I would’ve given you some pointers.”

Rattles gave Slink a long-suffering glance. “Slink, what pointers could you possibly give him about having a crush?”

Shelley looked at his friends, befuddled. “Guys, you know Muffy wasn’t the only girl I danced with, right?”

Molly rolled her eyes. “What, that wallflower, Jenna? Who you only asked because Muffy started dancing with George? Please, it’s so obvious! You only asked Jenna to dance because you were jealous of Muffy and George, and you wanted to show Muffy you weren’t missing out just because she wasn’t dancing with you.”

Shelley had never even thought about how his dances with Muffy would be read by others. If he had, he might not have asked her. No matter how amazing she looked. “Well, none of you were even there, so I don’t know how you can have opinions on it.”

“Then enlighten us,” Slink pushed. “Tell us what _really_ went on at the dance. We might even go to the next one.”

Rattles and Molly nodded, looking expectedly at Shelley.

Shelley looked between them hopelessly. _Well, uh. It all happened to be kinda funny_ , he thought. As if he was rehearsing what he wanted to say. _Like a dream. A dream!_ “I need to find George,” he said with a shake of his head, and he left them.

\---

When he was done dancing with Muffy, George left the dance. When he got home, he pulled out his script for Guys and Dolls. Again. And yet again, he couldn’t read it. This time, though, it was from difficulty concentrating. The other times he’d tried to read his script, he’d put all his concentration into it, and had managed to at least partially get it. This time, though? He wasn’t able to put all his concentration into it. In fact, he wasn’t even able to put half his concentration into it. More than half his concentration was devoted to what happened at the dance—and not the good parts of the dance (there were, after all, good parts).

No, what kept playing in George’s head over and over again was his interaction with Shelley. How it ended with him accidentally announcing to the entire gym that he was dyslexic. How Muffy had dragged him off without giving him and Shelley the chance to resolve things. Then again, the dance wasn’t the best place for them to have that conversation. She was probably saving him from further embarrassment, and he had to admit that for the few minutes he’d danced with her, he hadn’t been thinking about what just happened. But none of that mattered, because that wasn’t what people would be talking about at school Monday. They’d all be talking about the scene he’d caused with Shelley.

He was wrong. Dead wrong. It was almost eerie how nobody mentioned the dance to him. Maybe it was because they were all too busy talking about Shelley and Muffy. People were talking about them like they were boyfriend and girlfriend now or something. But George knew from experience that just because you danced with someone didn’t mean you were a couple or even that you had a crush on them. But that didn’t seem to be what everyone else thought. In fact, George had to hear about Shelley and Muffy so much that day that even he was starting to wonder if there was something there. Either way, if that was the reason nobody was talking about _him_ , he was grateful.

Shelley exhaled with relief when he finally saw George. “Hey,” he said as he approached him.

George groaned and turned to walk away.

“Hey, wait!”

George stopped and slowly turned back around.

“I’m really sorry about the dance. I get why you thought I meant it that way.”

George nodded reluctantly. “Why did you want to practice if it wasn’t my dyslexia?”

Shelley shrugged, looking away. “I dunno. I just wanted to spend some time with you.”

“With me? Why?”

“I still feel like I don’t really know you, George. We’ve gone to school together for years, but I still feel like I don’t really know you.”

“And you…want to?”

Shelley nodded, looking back at him.

George bit his lip. “Is that also why you asked Jenna to dance? Because you wanted to get to know her better, not because you were jealous of me and Muffy?”

Shelley nodded again. “I don’t have a crush on Muffy, you know. I wasn’t jealous.”

George shrugged. “I know. It’s just that word gets around.” 

“I know, and it’s _annoying_. Is this what the rest of middle school is gonna be like? Is it gonna get even worse in high school?”

“I sure hope not.”

The two of them laughed and headed to class.


	16. Chapter 16

Muffy had a crush. Muffy had the _biggest_ crush. And the crazy thing was that not that long ago, Shelley wasn’t the kind of boy she would ever like that way. Normally, she went for boys who looked like Nick Carter or Lance Bass. Not _Shelley_. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the dance, and how she felt so awkward when she first walked in. She’d been so afraid of standing out like a sore thumb until he reassured her that she stood out in a good way. He danced with her and kissed her hand.

Apparently, the rest of the school agreed with her about them making a great couple, because people kept bringing it up to her—including complete strangers. Even Jenna got in on it.

“So, are you two going out now?” she asked.

“Well,” Muffy said delicately, keeping in mind that Jenna had also danced with Shelley. “We haven’t had the chance to talk about it.”

“I think you should. I think you two would make a great couple.

Muffy blinked. “So, wait. You wouldn’t be jealous? I mean, you danced with him, too.”

Jenna waved a dismissive hand through the air. “Come on, Muffy. We all knew you would be the one who would get a boyfriend your first year of middle school. You’ve got this.”

“Well, not all of us,” Muffy teased. “I seem to remember you having a crush on George at some point?”

Jenna covered her face with her hand. “Oh my gosh, that was forever ago.” Not to mention the fact that she’d never actually had a crush on George and had only said that to keep from having to reveal her actual biggest secret. She’d long since stopped wetting the bed, and she’d long since stopped pretending to have a crush on George.

“Look,” Muffy pushed on. “All I’m saying is that if you’re okay with me going out with Shelley, maybe now’s the time for you to finally do something about your crush on George! Make your elementary school dreams come true!”

If Jenna had known how much this lie would come back to haunt her, she would have just said that she peed herself. “I’ll pass,” she declined, noting the slump of Muffy’s shoulders. “I’d just be happy to see you and Shelley together, honest.”

Muffy didn’t seem quite convinced. “Well…okay. If you insist.”

All this and she hadn’t even talked to Shelley yet about what he wanted. For all she knew, he didn’t like her back, and Jenna was the one he really had a crush on. That thought made her feel like she’d swallowed a gigantic ice cube. It hadn’t even occurred to her yet that he might not like her back. That he might, in fact, have a crush on someone else. No! She couldn’t think like that. She had to stay positive. Of course Shelley liked her back. Everyone at school thought so.

Still, some doubt lingered. Maybe that why she waited until after school to find Shelley and corner him. He looked surprised when she approached him—and a little bit scared. That fueled Muffy’s doubt.

“Hey,” she said, voice faltering only a little bit.

“Hey,” Shelley replied as he closed his locker. He sounded kind of down. That made her even more hesitant. Maybe this wasn’t the time to have this conversation. Then again, if he was feeling down, and he did like her back, maybe knowing she wanted to be his girlfriend would help cheer him up.

“So,” she said, leaning against the closed lockers as he looked at her expectantly. “People are talking. About us.”

Shelley let out an exasperated sigh. “I know! It’s so annoying!”

That was Muffy’s biggest clue yet that things weren’t quite the way she wanted them to be. If he liked her back, wouldn’t he feel the same way she did about people talking about them? “A—annoying?”

“Well, sure. Aren’t you sick of hearing about the dance?”

“Um…yes, but don’t you think they had a point? About how good we danced?”

Shelley smiled then, taking Muffy’s hand and twirling her. She went with the unexpected dance movement with a giggle. “They _do_ have a point about that,” Shelley admitted as he let go of her hand. “I’m just sick of people acting like just because we danced, suddenly we’re boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Muffy’s giggling faded. Uh oh. There it was again: that sensation like she’d just swallowed a giant ice cube. Of _course_ Shelley didn’t like her back. Of _course_ he didn’t want to be her boyfriend just because he’d asked her to dance. How could she have been so stupid? This was the first time she’d had a crush on a boy she actually knew instead of a celebrity, and it was over already.

Shelley must have picked up on her change in demeanor, because he eyed her suspiciously. “Wait…we _aren’t_ boyfriend and girlfriend, right?”

Now, Muffy laughed again—a transparent, faked laugh to cover up her hurt. “Don’t be silly. Of course not.”

Shelley exhaled with relief. “Good, because I’m not ready to have a girlfriend yet.”

Yet. That was them word Muffy zeroed in on. It meant that even though he didn’t want to be her boyfriend right now, he wasn’t saying that he would never want that. He just didn’t want it yet. Muffy could wait till he was ready.

\---

“I think Muffy has a crush on me,” Shelley said with a frown.

“Of course she does,” Molly replied.

“But why? She never has before.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “Because things are different for girls than they are for boys. To you, it might have just been a dance, but I bet she thought about it all weekend. Do you not know what it means to ask a girl to dance at a school dance?”

“Everything I know about school dances, I learned from West Side Story.”

Molly smacked her hand to her forehead. “In West Side Story,” she said slowly, patience wearing thin, “when Tony and Maria danced, why did they do it?”

“Because they liked each other. But that’s not always why boys and girls dance. What about the ballroom dance classes I took?”

“Those were classes. This is different.”

It seemed to finally be sinking in for him. “Well, I didn’t know that! How can I explain it to her?”

“You’re just going to have to bite the bullet and tell her you don’t like her that way. Only, let her down gently.”

“How?”

“Explain to her that you really do like her and care about her as a friend, and that’s why you asked her to dance with you, but that you want to stay just friends.”

Shelley sighed. “You give crappy advice. I don’t know why everyone goes to you for advice.”

Molly shrugged. “Beats me. But I must be doing something right.”

She had a point. Just because he didn’t like what she had to say didn’t mean she was wrong. And boy did he not like what she had to say.


End file.
